Stolen Darkness
by moosesaregreat
Summary: The sighting of the dragon at Helgen was an isolated incident. Laryn and Ralof get involved with some of the more shady institutions of Skyrim. Centers on the Thieves Guild/Dark Brotherhood. **on hiatus**
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Unbound

Laryn crouched behind a tree, taking in the scene unfolding before her. Men in soldier uniforms screaming, swords and shields clashing. It was far too dark to see much more than shadows, the faint moonlight glinting off the weapons and armor in the distance. Soon, only one group of men were left standing, pulling a few of the downed men up to their knees and lashing their wrists with rope behind their backs. She eased her dagger out of its sheath and waited.

The trip from Cyrodiil had been hard, but necessary. Laryn was not used to the harsh cold of Skyrim. Her horse was not either, lacking the short fur and dense muscles of the local breeds. Swift had died nearly two weeks ago, succumbing to the cold and malnutrition from the lack of edible roughage. Laryn had been suffering the nights thereafter shivering in front of a meager fire in the many caves that dotted the sparse terrain. The meat she had taken from her horse was long gone and the few salmon she had been able to catch in streams she had crossed made her nauseous. Despite being skilled with the bow, the deer bounding through the hills and rocks were extremely wary of hunters and always evaded her. Her eyes narrowed as she waited for the men to take their prisoners and leave so she could scavenge what little they left on the slain men on the battle field.

She knew she shouldn't linger, but the sharp pain in her gut stayed her feet. _I'd rather eat stale cheese from a dead man's pockets than try to stomach that disgusting fish again_, she thought. She tried to make herself smaller, one with the tree but heard the creaks of footsteps in the snow behind her and tensed.

"Well, would you look at this?" a gruff voice said, yanking her up by a handful of her hair. She turned her head painfully to see the unshaven Nord holding her. His breath stank of garlic and bad mead. "Of course this Stormcloak traitor is hiding. Coward!"

Her body snapped into motion. She threw herself backward into the smelly Nord, hoping to loosen his hold on her hair and remove the sword from her throat. It worked. She had knocked the Nord back a few paces but he kept his footing. She somersaulted backward and plunged her dagger into his thigh, then took off running.

Shouts of the fallen Nord and his comrades followed her through the dark woods. She pulled her sword from its sheath on her back and threw random fireballs behind her, trying to escape. An arrow punched through her shoulder blade and she faltered but kept running. They were closing in.

She ran straight into two more soldiers and sliced across the chest of one as she ran past with her sword. Flames engulfed his open wound and he fell, screaming. Another arrow hit her in the chest, then another in the back of her knee and she went down hard.

The soldiers surrounded her as she lay in pain on the ground. She tried to stand up but one of the soldiers held her down easily with his foot.

"Just take her with the other two. Pity we couldn't have taken them all to atone for their crimes against Skyrim. They don't deserve to die in battle."

There was a sharp pain at the base of her skull from the pommel of a sword and everything went black.

She awoke to swaying. _Am I on a boat? Well, that doesn't make any sense. Open your eyes, stupid._

Laryn opened her eyes and groaned. Her head hurt immensely, and the bright sun did nothing to help. There were scuffed leather boots directly in front of her.

"Hey, are you awake? I'll help you up, but our hands are bound and you're hurt." Hands appeared under her good shoulder and pushed her up to a seated position. The Nord belonging to the boots smiled slightly. He had shoulder length, dirty blond hair and his face was smeared with blood and grime, along with his blue uniform.

She looked around and realized they weren't alone. Two other men were in the wagon with them, glaring at her silently. She held her bound hands in front of her, her left palm up and tried a minor healing spell to alleviate her painful head and arrow wounds. Nothing happened. They must have slipped her something while she was out. She shook her head and looked down to the broken off arrow sticking out of her chest. They must have granted her a minor healing potion as well or she would be dead. She turned her gaze back to the blond man in front of her.

"Where are you from, elf?"

Laryn stared at him, debating whether to tell the truth or not. She didn't know this man, but maybe he could give her a clue as to where they were taking her and why…and maybe, it was a trap. She had come too far for her past to catch her now. "Where are they taking us?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Aye, Cyrodiil then. Your tongue betrays you," he replied, smirking. "I'll not ask why, it's not my business. They're taking us to Helgen, more than likely for execution." He glanced at the man next to him. "I'm Ralof, by the way."

"Laryn." This she could say with ease, as it was a name she assumed when fleeing Cyrodiil. It was an old name, perhaps not the best choice as it betrayed her profession but it was a family name as well.

The meaning of it was not lost on the Nord. "That must be why you're here with us!" he guffawed. "That's why he's here," he said, gesturing his bound hands to another prisoner.

"It's a family name," she mumbled. "Besides, I'm here because apparently I'm a Stormcloak." Most of her journey was through wilderness but the closer she came to the heart of Skyrim, the more small villages, farms and mines she passed. Occasionally she had found coin on the corpses of the many things that attacked her along with their pelts or picked herbs to trade, so she had heard some of the troubles currently plaguing the land while making small talk at the general stores.

Ralof snorted. "Idiots. Let me guess, they knocked you out without letting you speak. If they had…you know…your accent. One from the Empire wouldn't care about the plight of the Nords...but then, you fought them too. I hear you killed two of them and maimed another. A girl after my own heart!"

The man next to Ralof snorted. Ralof looked chastened for a moment, then directed his gaze back to her.

Laryn had had plenty of time to think about the current political situation while trekking across the land. "I hold no ties to Cyrodiil, that's why I'm no longer there. I actually agree with you. Besides, I suppose Skyrim is my home now as well."

Ralof regarded her thoughtfully. "Maybe you should talk with our fellow prisoners," he replied quietly, eyeing the man next to him. The man had dark hair for a Nord, and was dressed a tad better than the others. She herself had been stripped of her leather armor and was now dressed in rags. She cursed herself silently for not being more vigilant earlier. If she had been, she wouldn't be in this predicament, more than likely on her way to be beheaded, and would still have her enchanted dagger, sword and bow.

"No need to make friends now if they're going to lop our heads off." Laryn had known for a long time that something like this would happen, if not the exact how or why. Leading a life of crime, while very profitable, tended to end shortly and abruptly. Her last job had ended with her contact turning on her after she had finished her part and wanted payment. She had been wary from the beginning, though had worked for nobility many times over. She also knew the repercussions of taking such a job. Ever since the Guild disbanded, there was no protection from someone just taking advantage of her services and handing her over to the guards.

Laryn sighed and pushed her bright red hair out of her eyes to look at the man next to Ralof. "Okay, who are you?"

The man glared at her for a few moments. "Ulfric Stormcloak." Ulfric looked down his nose at her. "Best you learn some respect, knife-ear."

Laryn cursed herself silently. _Great. Now if we DO get out of this mess, he'll hang me anyway._ "I apologize for my rudeness," she said quickly, disregarding his slur. "If I may be so bold, how did they capture you?"

His reply was cut off by one of the guards riding next to the wagon, his sword going to Ulfric's throat. "Keep the gag in your mouth, Stormcloak. We don't need any more a that yellin' ya like to do," the guard said before shoving the rag that was hanging around Ulfric's neck back into his mouth. "You'll be gettin' yours here quick, traitor."

Laryn turned her head just in time to see Helgen's gates opening to receive them. The wagon wound through the crowd lined up along the street to witness the executions. It came to a halt near a group of guards, the guards accompanying the wagon dismounting.

Ralof smiled sadly at her. "For what it's worth, it was nice to meet you, Laryn. May Talos have mercy on you." He turned to look at Ulfric. "I regret nothing."

A guard lowered the back of the wagon and yelled at the prisoners to come down one at a time. Ulfric descended first, then the thief, and then Ralof hopped down leaving her alone, contemplating her injuries and how much hopping down would hurt. She could bare it but then he extended his bound hands to her, attempting to help her down. She gave him a faint half-smile and whispered, "Thank you." They stood in a silent line as a guard read off their names and crimes. One prisoner ran for his life and was quickly taken down by archers, screaming he wouldn't let them take him with his last breath.

There was a moment of confusion with the guards, not knowing who Laryn was or exactly why she was there but having been brought with the "traitors", they quickly had her back in line with the others. She made herself watch the axe fall over the neck of the man in front of her, steeling herself for what was to come.

The guards kicked her forward and shoved her to her knees in front of the wooden block, the last prisoner's body shoved aside. His mouth howled a silent plea to her, dead eyes staring directly into hers from the other side of the block. She looked to the bright blue sky, saying a silent prayer before closing her eyes and laying her head on the block, resigned to her fate.

_**A/N: Serious spoilers ahead! If you haven't played through the guild missions at all, turn back now! Also, a big thanks to my friend Lisa for being my beta, even though she has no idea what's going on and also to fellow writer alyssacousland since this would literally not be possible without her help!(If you want some good DA fanfics, look her up!)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thanks again to Lisa for having the smartypants and willingness to help me, both with grammar and expanding my story. Also, she noticed, apparently, that I'm comma-happy when I write, and, maybe, I should work on that.**_

_**Also thanks to alyssacousland for the review! Being a big fan of your work, it means a lot to me! Hugs and waffles for you!**_

Chapter 2: Escape From Helgen

The shadow of the headsman's axe fell over Laryn's face. She thanked the gods for what little life she had lead and held her breath. If only things hadn't had gone how they had. If only she had actually _lived_ during her brief time on Nirn. _It wasn't THAT bad, Laryn. What was it Ralof said? I regret nothing._

She heard a great whooshing noise, followed by a deafening roar. _Was that it? The sound of the axe falling? There's no pain. Everything is so peaceful and quiet._

She felt a blistering heat and opened her eyes. The entire square was swallowed by a great shadow. The wind picked up, causing dust to spin around her. She turned her head and looked up to the Keep tower, finding the source of the heat and wind. Sitting atop it, bigger than anything she had ever seen was a giant _thing_, flames shooting from its maw into the houses surrounding the square. Shaped like a great winged lizard, it had black scales the size of her head. Its wings were spread out blacking out the sun behind it. Taking a break from turning the town into an inferno, it turned its head and looked at her. It stared right into her eyes as if knowing her, knowing who she was, and laughing disdainfully at her bound hands and wounded body.

Sound came back to her in a rush, guards and commoners alike all screaming the same the same word. "DRAGON!" _But dragons are only legends, _she thought, her eyes opening to the size of saucers. _This can't be!_

She fumbled to her feet and took off running, following the scattered guards into the Keep's tower. "Where in the blazes did that thing come from?" one of the guards asked. "There haven't been dragons in Skyrim for centuries! We have to get out of here, it's destroying the city!"

"Where do we go? What do we do?" Laryn had never been in a situation like this, and instinct failed her. She had no idea where she was, or the layout of the town.

"We'll have to go up the tower and across the balustrade. I'm Hadvar, Imperial soldier. Follow me." He started to run up the curved staircase, when the wall in front of him exploded inward. Gouts of flame followed, the heat washing across Laryn's body at the bottom of the staircase, rubble from the wall falling at her feet.

"We must find another way!" Hadvar yelled, pointing to the stones from the broken wall obscuring the upper staircase. He motioned her to him, unsheathing his sword. Gesturing to the opening the dragon blew open, he said "Jump down into that house. I'll meet you outside." He took off down the stairs, leaving her looking out of the hole.

The dragon's fury had burned most of the town. What had been a thatched roof on the house below was now a smoldering ruin, half of the beams fallen and smoking. It was a good 20 feet to the second story floor of the house. Laryn debated the distance, the arrowhead in the back of her knee protesting from the short assisted jump from the wagon earlier. She had no choice. Hands bound, no weapons…it was this or die.

Laryn took a deep breath and jumped. The floor of the house hurtled toward her. She tried to roll when she hit the floor, but her knee protested and she screamed in pain as the barbed arrowhead penetrated farther into the soft flesh of the back of her leg. Panting, she rose to her feet and stumbled down the stairs of the house. Hadvar waited for her at the door.

"Follow me!" He charged off down an alley way and the dragon, now sitting in the main square wreaking havoc on everything around it, roared again-shooting flames in between them. Laryn crouched painfully and peeked around the corner of the house. The dragon had found something else to keep its attention, and she took the opportunity to run after Hadvar.

He stood at the door of the Keep, along with Ralof and a few other guards. "Ralof!" she exclaimed. "You made it too!"

He smiled at her and said, "Of course I did, Elfy. One little dragon can't stop me." He looked at Hadvar disdainfully. "I believe it's time for a choice. Come with me or them." Laryn didn't have to think twice, and followed Ralof into the building. It must have been the barracks, as there were beds lining the walls. "Come here." He grabbed a dagger from a nearby table and gestured to her hands. She held them out, and he slit the rope holding them. He handed the dagger to her and she returned the favor. They looted the chests and cupboards in the room and, in the last chest by the door, she found her confiscated armor and weapons.

She let out a joyful cry and started equipping herself. She realized Ralof was watching her as she started to remove her ragged tunic. "Turn around, you lecher!" she admonished, pointing her finger at him.

"You're no fun," he said snickering and then obediently faced the wall. Her black leather armor fit like a second skin, and the broken arrow shafts sticking out of her body hurt terribly when she fitted the armor over them. The arrows in her chest and shoulder were imbedded in the bone, and due to their dire situation, there was no time to remove them now. She gingerly shoved the shafts through the holes they had previously punched through her armor and turned to Ralof.

"I cannot fully heal myself until these arrowheads are removed, Ralof," she said to him as she finished shoving other armor and weapons she had retrieved from the chests into a backpack to sell later. "However, I'm as combat-ready as I can be for now."

Ralof laughed. "I saw that jump you made from the tower, Laryn. If we changed places, I wouldn't be walking!" He shook his head, grinning and finished buckling a sword to his hip. "I'm ready, if you're done robbing them of everything. Not that I mind you taking from Imperial soldiers, of course."

"I can't believe I found my gear! If it comes down to it, my bow is enchanted with fire though I doubt that will make much difference against a dragon. My dagger and sword are enchanted as well," she told him before kicking the gate in front of them. "Any chance you found a key?"

Ralof stared at her. "No, I didn't. I guess we're screwed now." He watched as she nervously glanced at the door to the square, then laughed. "Of course I found it, you ninny. Actually, I found a few!" He drew a large key ring with maybe 20 keys dangling from it out of his pocket and jingled it at her. "Have some faith in me, Elfy. I'm not THAT dumb." He tried several keys before finding the correct one. "Mostly."

Laryn smiled before following him through the door. _This Nord isn't so bad. If only they all treated us Bosmer this way._ They followed the hallway for some time before hearing voices a ways ahead of them. Ralof motioned her down and looked back at her, but she was already crouched so she stuck her tongue out at him. Grinning, he shook his head and cautiously looked around the corner into the room ahead of them. The people were arguing over what to do now that the dragon had besieged the Keep. Ralof held up three fingers, unsheathed his sword then ran off screaming.

Laryn unsheathed her dagger and sword and followed. Ralof engaged one of the men, and Laryn jumped in between the other two men, slashing out with both her dagger and sword. Her sword sliced one man's stomach open and he fell, screaming as the wound cauterized itself shut in a burst of flame. She focused on the other, who seemed very green in combat. He frowned at her nervously, stepping to the right, then left, then swung his blade. She smiled as she easily sidestepped his sword swing and stepped towards him, shoving her dagger into his chest. The wound erupted in a shower of sparks, bluish purple lines tracing paths across his torso and he fell down, dead.

Ralof looked up at her, wiping his blade clean on the vest of the man he'd dispatched. "This was the torture chamber," he said quietly. He looked around at the cages, and saw nothing but blue uniforms. "They were torturing these men to find Ulfric…maybe there is something here to help us, since the rest of it is just depressing." He looked away then walked over to the door, gazing through the bars to the other side. "I'll wait here."

Laryn looked around at the room. It was dank and dreary, cold gray stone with moss and mold growing between the cracks and where water had dripped down the walls. Sconces held torches in the corners, adding to the gloom. They had come in through a passage in the northeast corner and the door leading away from the room was caddy-corner, to the southwest. Along the southeastern walls, directly in front of her, sat locked cages-prisoners in varying states of decay in each. The northeastern walls held hanging cages, skeletal hands hanging out of the bars, pleading to her to help them in their torment. In the center of the room between two pillars sat a bloodstained wooden table, with rusty pincers and pokers atop it.

Laryn wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight and to the smell of old blood and excrement, but didn't waste any time pocketing the healing potions she found on a shelf and other goods she'd be able to sell later. She dug around in a barrel and smiled when she found a bundle of lockpicks at the bottom. She took them, extracted one from the bundle and hastened over to the cages lining one of the walls. She deftly picked the lock of one with a fresh corpse in it and looted his body finding a spell book, some potions and a few coins. She quickly went about the room taking anything of wealth. She dug into the pockets of one corpse, and looked over at Ralof. He looked sad, but shrugged with the knowledge that these things would never bring peace to a dead man. She finished her work and returned to Ralof. With one last look at the expired prisoners, he gazed down at her and said, "I've had enough of this place." Laryn placed a hand on his arm as they turned to leave and squeezed, giving what comfort she could to her new friend.

They went down a hallway lined with empty cages. They followed the pathway, Ralof ahead of her, for some time and finally he crouched down peering ahead of them. He again held up three fingers and ran out into the room, his battle cry echoing off the walls.

Laryn followed, crouched and nigh on invisible, pulling out her bow. The room was large, with bridged pathways across an underground stream. She knocked an arrow and shot at the soldier directly across from her. She hit her mark, directly in the chest. A circle of flame engulfed his torso, and he fell. She aimed at another soldier. Her aim staying true, he fell down dead before the flames erupted. He died before he could even register surprise in the eyes she just split with her arrow.

Ralof walked up to her, panting. "I think…I should follow you…as long as….I can." He smiled at her warmly. "You're….formidable."

Laryn snorted. "Yeah, tell your boss that. I'm sure he'd love to know." She looted the bodies as Ralof pushed his sword point into the floor, leaning against the pommel as he caught his breath. She attempted to retrieve her arrows, but gave up on wrenching them out of the soldier's bodies. There was nothing special about the steel arrows anyway. "Let's go."

They followed the path, now deep below the Keep, along an inlet of the underground stream. Soon, silvery webbing coated the green rocky walls and they came upon a large open area with what looked to be huge egg sacs. Laryn mumbled, "What the…" and was cut off by a hissing noise from across the room. Hip-high red and black spiders were coming at them from every side. She took out her weapons and danced around the spiders, hacking and slashing as she went. Within moments, the spiders were dead. "WHAT WERE THOSE?" she almost screamed at Ralof, high pitched and wide-eyed.

He chuckled at her. "Frostbite spiders. The bloody things are everywhere in Skyrim. I'm surprised you haven't encountered any." She shuddered. "They're easily killed, and their venom makes for good poison or something else to sell….since you're so keen on that, Elfy." He saw the disgusted look on her face, and laughed again. "Here, I'll show you how to harvest their poison. It will come as useful, I'm sure." He motioned her over and knelt down beside a spider, showing her how to find the venom glands and drain them. The disgusted look never left her face, but she absorbed the knowledge gratefully.

"At least there's some kind of reward for this," she said under her breath as she attempted to retrieve the venom from the last spider. She shuddered again, and Ralof had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing at her. She succeeded and they moved along, Laryn expressly happy knowing that they just HAD to be close to the end of the cave by now.

Ralof crouched down and motioned her closer to him. "There's a bear down there. Do you see?" He pointed along the cave wall to a brown lump in the distance and she nodded. "Either we can sneak around her or we can kill her, but she may prove to be a problem."

Laryn smiled at him. "You know what my name means, yes? Leave her to me." She pulled out her dagger and stayed crouched along the wall, moving closer to the sleeping bear. The closer she came, the slower she inched forward, until she was hovering over the snoring animal. Slowly, she put her blade under the bear's neck, then in one motion grabbed the fur on the back of its head and drew her dagger across its throat. It died instantly.

She knelt down and began to skin the bear of its pelt. Ralof eyed her speculatively. "How is it that you can sneak up on a bear and kill it, but you were captured?"

Laryn looked up at him with narrowed eyes and replied, "How is it that you can kill so many soldiers down here, but still you were captured?"

Ralof barked a laugh. "Ha! Well played, little lady." He wandered around the cavern as she cut off the bear's claws for trade and spotted what he thought was the exit. "Hurry up! I think we're about out of here!"

She stood up quickly, finished with the bear and followed him to an opening in the wall. They followed the steep incline to a bright light ahead of them, and emerged to the late day light. She blinked rapidly to try to adjust her eyes, and they heard a loud roar behind them. They crouched behind a rock and watched as the dragon swooped around the ruins of Helgen far in the distance, then flapped off into the sky. They didn't speak a word as they watched the dragon slowly dissolve into a black dot on the horizon, and then disappear completely.

Laryn let out a loud sigh, content that they had escaped the peril of the moment and sunk to a sitting position, her back to the rock. She winced as she lowered her injured knee to the ground. "Now what?" she asked Ralof.

He thought for a moment. "Well…my sister is in Riverwood, which isn't far." He thought another moment, then walked over to her and poked the arrow shaft sticking out of her chest. She hissed and slapped at his hand as she glared at him. He smiled. "We should probably make camp for the night and extract those arrows, or you're no good for anything. Luckily, I grabbed a tent back at the barracks. I told you, I'm not THAT dumb."


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: This chapter was sooo much fun to write, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks to Lisa for her awesome brain, and to alyssacousland and QueenPersephoneOfHades for their awesome reviews! I suppose I should probably include a disclaimer here: I don't own this stuff, Bethesda does.**_

Chapter 3: What's A Little Arrow Extraction Between Friends?

Laryn and Ralof followed the path down the side of the mountain. They eventually crossed a small stream and chased its banks away from the foot worn trail to find a suitable campsite. Ralof pointed to a place where two bluffs met. "That ought to keep the wind off." He took the tent out of his pack and started to unroll it next to the steep rock wall. The packed dirt clearing in front of the bluffs was edged with dead grass before changing back into densely wooded forest and rocky outcrops.

"I'll go find some firewood," Laryn said. She tossed her pack on the ground and veered off into the trees. She walked a short way and found a stump with some already cut firewood next to it-the obvious leavings of a prior inhabitant. _Well that was easy_, she thought. _I suppose I should be nice and replace it before we break camp in the morning._ She picked up what few logs she could carry in her injured state then wandered around between the tall trees looking for something to use as kindling. A small red fox burst out from under a bush right next to her. She jumped and told it, "You scared me!" It stopped trotting away and turned to stare at her. "You should help me find some brush to start the fire with." The little fox sat down and continued to stare at her, then blinked slowly and looked at the bush it had popped out of. Laryn stooped down and pushed the bush aside, finding dead dried out branches fallen underneath.

She picked them up, and then looked back at the fox who was watching her. "Thank you very much," she told it. It looked at her a moment longer, then turned its head to lick its shoulder as if brushing off her gratitude. She smiled at it. "I bid you good day, friend fox," she said with a small bow and then turned away to painfully plod back to the campsite. _Something nice to interrupt my otherwise shoddy day, at least. _She wasn't looking forward to what the next few hours would bring. Almost back to the bluffs, she heard a branch snap behind her. She turned and saw the little fox standing a few feet behind her. "I would think you would have more interesting things to do than follow me, sir." Shaking her head at the antics of the animal, she stepped out of the woods into the clearing.

In the time she was gone; Ralof had gotten the tent set up and had found a large fallen log, placing it next to a ring of rocks. He, however, was nowhere to be found. Laryn set the logs down in the circle, shoved the dry branches underneath them and walked over to her pack. As she was digging around looking for flint, Ralof walked into the clearing, dripping wet but clean from bathing in the stream.

"You'll freeze in wet clothes, Ralof. I've got a couple of uniforms here you can change into." She tossed her pack at him, and took the flint over to the logs.

"Thank you, Mother. I'll have you know, I remembered to wash behind my ears!" He pulled out a red uniform and wrinkled his nose. He dug deeper and found a blue uniform. "Ah, much better." As he turned to duck into the tent, he saw a flash of burnt orange in the yellowed grass along the tree line. "Hey, I think there's a fox over there."

Laryn looked up from striking her flint and scanned the trees. "Oh, him? He helped me find the kindling and then he escorted me back here. I found some firewood already cut over there, but I couldn't carry very much."

"I'll go get more when we need it." Ralof's voice was muffled from inside the small tent. He emerged, dressed in a clean uniform. "I found a likely rabbit-run down by the stream and set up a few string-traps. Maybe we'll have something good for breakfast. Wait a minute, the fox helped you?"

Laryn looked over from poking the fire with a stick and shrugged. "He jumped out of a bush and scared me, so I told him to help me find some. Maybe he didn't _really_ help me, but it seemed like he did."

"I've heard lots of things about you wood elves. You take over the minds of animals and eat each other. Do you only eat meat?" Ralof asked as he sat on the log next to her, digging in his pack.

Laryn laughed. "The Green Pact? No, that's only back in the homeland, Valenwood. My ancestors left there long ago. As far as I know, they still abide by the Pact there. Forbidden to harm any plant for your betterment, consuming part of your enemy's corpse, that is all true. All Bosmer can command animals, but I've never tried. Maybe the fox just liked that I was polite." She finished stoking the fire and sat on the log next to Ralof, who handed her some cheese and bread. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Laryn turned to him and asked, "Why are you so nice to me? Ulfric certainly wouldn't have cared."

"No, I suppose he wouldn't. I agree that we should be independent from the Empire and the Thalmor influence, but I don't judge all elves based on the problems with the Aldmeri Dominion. Tomorrow, you'll see where I was raised. Riverwood is small. There's just the mill, an inn and a general store. So small that everyone works together to survive whether they be Man or Mer. My best friend growing up was a wood elf too, actually. Maybe you'll meet him. Honestly, I think Ulfric's problem wasn't just that you were an elf, but that you're a Bosmer."

Laryn shook her head. "Why, because the Bosmer joined the Thalmor in the Dominion? I really don't think it was because they wanted to, Ralof. They're simple clan folk, worshipping the trees. How can they defend themselves against an army of mages? It was either an alliance or a slaughter. The Thalmor have to bring supplies across Valenwood to get to Cyrodiil. In fact, I've heard that the Thalmor view the Bosmer as ignorant heathens and purge whole clans regularly to keep the rest too scared to rebel." She took the water skin he offered her and took a drink.

"That's horrible, Laryn. This whole war is horrible, so much needless bloodshed. The Nord in me loves the fighting of course, but it's just gotten so out of control. Some Nords want the dominance of man; the Aldmeri Dominion wants dominance of elves. Well, the dominance of fancypants Altmer anyway. Most of us just want to live our lives as we wish."

"I don't think it's going to work out that way, Ralof," she replied sadly, meeting his gaze. "Whatever side wins, the other will be punished and that includes all the innocent people who just want to be left in peace." Silence fell over them as they finished their meal. Twilight had descended as they had eaten, and the twin moons were full and bright against the sea of stars above them. The lack of nighttime insects chirping and buzzing had unnerved Laryn since she had come to Skyrim. True, she had never used her races ability to control animals, but their presence was always comforting. Complete silence could mean something nasty lurking in the dark. She heard a rustle from the trees, and saw the fox laying down at the edge of the clearing, still watching them, eyes glowing yellow in the light of the fire. She pointed to it and said, "I think maybe he's hungry."

Ralof looked to the fox then back to Laryn. Her normally leaf-green eyes were now golden in the firelight. "I can see how the Bosmer could frighten people," he said as he turned to dig in his pack again. "No offense, of course. Between the fire and the tilt of your eyes, they look like his." He handed her some dried beef for the fox.

Laryn snorted and stood up. She batted her eyes at him and said, "I bet you talk so sweetly to all the ladies." She walked over to the fox, which made no move to leave his spot in the grass at her approach. She tossed the beef to it, and it yipped at her before picking it up and gnawing on it. "You're welcome, little one."

Ralof watched her limp back to the fire. "I think it's time for the highlight of the evening, Elfy." Laryn sighed and nodded, taking the tunic and breeches gained from her imprisonment out of her pack along with a blanket, some rags and a healing potion. She went into the tent and changed out of her armor, returning to find Ralof wrapping a strip of leather around a short stick. She unlaced the neck of the tunic and sat down on the ground in front of him.

He handed her the stick and asked, "Well, which one first?" She shrugged and winced. "Shoulder it is then. Turn around." She turned so her back was facing him and he pulled the tunic down, exposing the arrow wound in her left shoulder. Almost her entire back was covered with dried blood, flaking off of her skin into the tunic. He poured some water onto one of the rags and gently wiped the blood away. "You've lost a LOT of blood, Laryn. I should have carried you out of there. How did you do it?"

"I didn't have a choice. I prefer living, usually," she replied. She put the stick between her teeth and mumbled around it, "Let'sh do thish."

The arrowhead didn't seem like it was in too deep, but Ralof could tell it was in the bone. He wrapped another rag around the base of the arrow to keep from cutting himself. Gripping it as best he could, pulled, making Laryn growl, but it held fast in her shoulder blade. He tried again, pulling harder with the same result.

"AAAAAAAGH!" Laryn bellowed, yanking the stick out of her mouth and smacking him with it. "MOTHER'S MILK IN A CUP, RALOF! GET THE FLAMING THING OUT ALREADY!"

"Swearing at me isn't going to get it out any faster, woman!" She glared at him, put the stick back between her teeth and turned back around. He braced himself with his left hand on her back then gripped the arrow again and gave it a mighty yank. Laryn's yell turned into a groan as the arrow pulled free of her shoulder. Ralof quickly held a rag up to the wound to staunch the blood flow. Laryn held her left hand up, both her hand and the arrow wound glowed a pale yellow as the flesh knitted back together. Laryn grunted in pain again.

"I swear, healing hurts almost as much as the wound itself," she said. Ralof handed her the arrowhead and she held it up to the fire looking at it. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's okay. I tried to make it hurt as much as I could. Here, lean back on the log so I can see." She turned around and leaned back, and Ralof kneeled on the ground next to her. He moved aside her tunic and again saw more dried blood than he thought possible. The arrow had been lodged into breastbone on the right side, just above her breast. He shook his head and frowned as he cleaned around the arrow. "You're lucky this was caught by your ribs instead of going in between, or you'd be dead."

Laryn watched him frown in concentration. _Who knew a big scary Nord would have such a gentle hand?_ She smiled up at him. "Thank you, Ralof."

He looked down at her smiling at him and arched an eyebrow at her. "Trying to look pretty while I'm looking at your chest won't make this hurt any less, Elfy." Laryn rolled her eyes and chomped down on the stick. Ralof gripped the arrowhead and pulled. It came out easily, with hardly a sound from Laryn. She quickly healed the hole in her chest.

"That one wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be," Laryn said as she stood up and laid out the blanket on the ground. "This is the one I'm most worried about." She pulled up the leg of her breeches then lay down on her stomach, pillowing her head on her arms.

"Well, let's have a look," Ralof said as he knelt down next to her, examining her leg. The arrowhead was now completely embedded into the flesh in her thigh just above her knee, with just the wooden shaft sticking out from all the walking and crouching she had done to escape Helgen. He wiped off the dried blood, and found the whole back of her leg from mid-thigh to mid-calf was dark purple, the skin around the wound an angry red. It was still oozing dark blood, trailing down the side of her knee onto the blanket. "Um, Laryn, this one is pretty bad. I think I'll have to cut it out. If I just pull the shaft, it might break off at the arrowhead."

Laryn sighed. "That's just great. Do what you have to do. For some reason, I trust you."

He drew a dagger from his boot, clearing his throat nervously. "You know I was joking when I said I was trying to make it hurt, right?"

"Of course I do. I was just growly because it hurt, and you were just being an ass like usual."

"I am pretty good at that, aren't I? Are you ready?" She nodded. Ralof held his dagger with his hand grasping the blade so he could move the point more precisely. He took a deep breath and said softly, "I'm really sorry I have to do this, Laryn." He pushed the point of the dagger into the wound next to the arrowhead, making Laryn squeal and groan around the makeshift bit in her mouth. He moved the dagger around the arrow, cutting the inflamed flesh away from it and causing Laryn to yell out louder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…Breathe, Laryn. I'm almost done."

Unbidden tears coursed down Laryn's face as she moaned, her fists clenched in front of her face so tightly that her nails cut into her palms. She tried to breathe as Ralof told her to, but the pain of him digging the dagger around in her tender wound was too intense. The leather wrapped stick fell to the ground as she finally gasped for air before grinding her teeth together and panting raggedly between sobs.

Ralof finished circling the arrowhead with the dagger, then pushed it a bit deeper to get the tip under the point of the arrow, using the dagger's blade to lever the arrow out of her leg . Laryn's wail cut off with a squeak as he popped the arrowhead out. He immediately shoved a rag into the deep hole of her injury as she writhed on the ground, and heard her mumbling in between groans. "Ohhhh, blood and ashes…blood and bloody ashes…sheepswallop…and bloody…buttered…onions." Her body went limp and her head flopped to the ground as she passed out.

_Well, that was the most colorful thing I've heard in a long time_, Ralof thought, chuckling to himself. He carefully turned her over onto her back and sat down next to her still form. He lifted her shoulders, putting his leg under them to prop her up and then opened the healing potion. "Drinky, drinky, little elf," he said to her as he cradled her head with one hand and poured the potion into her mouth with the other. She swallowed subconsciously and he laid her back down. He had wondered why she had set out the potion if she could heal herself, but was grateful now that she had. He wiped the dirt that had adhered to her wet face off then cleaned her blood off of his hands and dried them on his pants. Looking at the arrowheads on the ground thoughtfully, he decided to keep them and rinsed them as well. He put them away in his pack before lifting her leg up to make sure the potion had worked. The gaping hole in her leg was now gone and back to its original olive tone. With the bruise and blood gone, he noticed that her lower leg was wrapped in small black symbols and an intricate vined pattern. _A tattoo? I wonder what it means._

Ralof resolved to learn more about this woman. He'd never met someone as interesting as Laryn. She was intelligent, witty, and they fought well together. They had only known each other for one days' time and yet they got along as if they'd been childhood friends, despite the day's dangers or perhaps because of them. Maybe he could go with her rather than go back to Windhelm. Picking her small body up in his arms and he carried her over to the tent, looking at her face while he walked._ She looks like a child when she's asleep._ He laid her down on the bear pelt he had spread out for a bed earlier, covered her with a blanket and walked back out to the fire. Laryn's friend was still lying across the clearing watching him. Ralof nodded to it and asked, "Think maybe I should ask if she wants a tour guide?" The fox blinked at him, then laid its head down on its tail and closed its eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hey! Hey you! I see some of you reading my story and not reviewing it. Please, please, please let me know what you think! ANY feedback whatsoever, whether it be negative or positive, maybe I got some of the lore wrong, things you'd like to see happen, ANYTHING, feel free to let me know. There may or may not be virtual waffles involved.**_

_**As always-thanks to Lisa, alyssacousland for the review, and to those who favorited my story. That's right, I see you too. O_o It really humbles me to know that you like what I'm putting my heart into. **_

_**Oh, sorry for the grammatical error at the end of the last chapter. I don't know how to fix it. D:**_

_**Bethesda owns it.**_

Chapter 4: Riverwood and Beyond

Laryn awoke feeling refreshed but freezing cold. She stood up, rotating her arm and bending her leg experimentally. _Well, I suppose I'm as put together as I can be_, she thought when there were no twinges of pain. She pulled the blanket up around her shoulders like a cloak and pushed the tent flap aside, stepping out into the cold bright morning. Ralof was sitting on the log, staring idly at a pair of rabbits roasting on a spit over the fire and absentmindedly stripping the bark off a twig.

She walked up behind him and asked, "Did you sleep at all?"

He jumped, dropping the stick. "Blood and ashes, woman! Are you always that quiet?" Laryn smiled and sat down next to him, wrapping the blanket around her legs. Ralof laughed at himself. "Aye, I suppose you are or you'd be the worst thief in Tamriel." He picked the twig up from the ground and continued dismantling it, avoiding her eyes. "I, uh, didn't sleep, actually. You lost a lot of blood and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Besides, Riverwood is just a couple hours down the road. I can nap at Gerdur's house."

Laryn reached her hand out from under the blanket to touch his. "Thank you, Ralof. That was very kind of you."

He blushed slightly and cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, don't tell anyone. Oh look, breakfast is ready!" Clearly uncomfortable at her gratitude, he quickly stood and took the rabbits off of the fire. Laryn watched as he waved the spit slowly trying to cool off their meal then turned her gaze across the clearing at the matted down spot in the grass where the fox had been.

"Did my friend leave?" she pouted as Ralof handed her one of the roasted rabbits. She accepted it gratefully, ripping into the piping hot meat. It burned her tongue but she didn't care. Intense healing such as hers left a person ravenously hungry.

Ralof watched as she voraciously dug in to her meal. She looked over at him expectantly, grease dripping down her chin. He found it endearing, which startled him. "He left around daybreak, but I caught him watching me when I was chopping more wood." He started to eat his breakfast as well. "He's probably around here somewhere. He seems to like you."

As if knowing they were talking about it, the fox trotted into the clearing and sat on the opposite side of the fire, eyeing the rabbits in their hands and licking its lips. Laryn laughed and told it, "You can have my leftovers, friend but I am HUNGRY!" It stamped its foot impatiently. Laryn snorted. "You can always go find your own, you know." It finally lay down and huffed at her, content to wait for the easy meal.

They continued with their breakfast, Ralof watching the interaction between his friend and the animal. _I've never seen a fox act like this. Sure they're smart, but is it that she's a Bosmer or does it just see the kind of person she is?_ He ripped a leg off of his rabbit and took a bite. "So, where are you going now?" he asked between bites. "I could go with you. You know…show you around? I've been all over Skyrim."

Laryn chewed thoughtfully. She enjoyed his company and since she had no idea where she was going, thought his presence would help. "Well, I really don't know where I'm going. I'm really only good at one thing. Is there a guild here?"

Ralof nodded as he swallowed. "I know a man in Riften you should talk to. Scuttlebutt says there's a guild hall there." He tossed his leftovers to the fox. It looked over to Laryn, who nodded to it before it stood and started picking the meat from the bones. "Wow, he really doesn't like me. Anyway, we can head to Whiterun from Riverwood and take the carriage to Riften. We have enough things to pawn to afford it, I think."

She looked over the carcass in her hands trying to find more food but found she had picked it all clean. She tossed the bones over to the fox and reached over to her pack, digging out a large chunk of cheese. "Gods, but I'm hungry. Did you have to use the potion? I don't remember much towards the end." He said he did as he stood. "You'd think after all this time; they'd have fixed that problem with potions." He walked behind her and started to take the things out of the tent so he could break camp. She took a large bite of the cheese then stood up to gather her things. She smiled when she saw that Ralof had cleaned the blood from the inside of her armor.

"You said some of the funniest swears I've ever heard before you passed out," he replied as he walked around the tent removing the stakes from the ground. He looked up at her as she picked up her armor from where he had left it after cleaning and polishing it as best he could. "I force-fed you that potion, then had my way with you." He saw her grin and shake her head as she stamped her feet into her boots. "I also saw the tattoos on your leg." She stiffened and turned to gaze at him wide-eyed. "I don't know what they mean but maybe someday you'll like me enough to tell me?" he asked quickly, seeing the fear in her eyes.

Laryn thought for a moment, expressly frightened at first that he knew her secret but then realized that he did not and softened her gaze at the man who had saved her life the night before, disregarding his own needs to make sure she had lived. "Someday, my friend," she replied quietly as she pulled a bar of soap from her pack. "I'm going to bathe, if there's time." He had seemed anxious that he had offended her before, but then smiled and told her there was as he began to roll up the tent. She picked up the water skins sitting by the fire to refill them and took off to the stream, the fox trotting silently behind her.

ooooo

They came upon the Guardian Stones around mid-morning. Three large stone plinths covered in pictographs loomed before them, sitting on a rocky ledge over the wide river below them. Laryn had never seen the like before. "What are these?" she asked, looking to Ralof.

He touched the one on the left, running his hands across the fine markings on its surface reverently. "These are the Guardian Stones. They grant you the ability to gain the knowledge of certain skills faster." He stepped back and pointed at the one he had been touching. "Warrior," he said as he pointed to the next, "Mage, and Thief. I assume you will want the knowledge of the Thief stone. It will help you with lockpicking, pickpocketing, sneaking…not that you need any profits of that. You almost gave me apoplexy this morning."

Laryn grinned as she pondered the Guardian Stones. "I'm confident in those abilities, Ralof. And…I know a few spells, but that's not something I really care about. The healing spell is my saving grace but I can't control the fire spell I know well enough to use for more than a distraction, not even enough to light a fire with. Would the Warrior stone help me with my sword work?"

Ralof peaked an eyebrow and laughed. "From what I've seen, you don't need any help with that but yes; it will help your knowledge of swordplay and your archery as well."

She thought for a moment and nodded to herself. "What do I need to do?"

"You see the hole in the middle? Stick your fist in it, and the stars will grant you knowledge," he replied. Laryn obediently shoved her arm through the hole of the Warrior Stone and felt warmth and a tingling sensation over her body. She shivered.

"That…was strange. Have you done it?" she asked, looking over at Ralof as they turned back down the path to Riverwood. He said he had and they followed the beaten pathway in silence, seeing a bright orange spot flit in and out of their line of sight along the tree line. Laryn's fox friend had followed them after breaking camp, only disappearing when a pack of three wolves attacked them. They easily dispatched the creatures and the fox soon reappeared along the path.

They quickly moved along the trampled dirt that ran straight along the river, and they came across a patch of wildflowers. Laryn remembered Ralof's embarrassment at her thanking him for helping her earlier, and smiled as she stooped down to pick some orange and blue blossoms. She caught up to Ralof and handed them to him, bowing. In her best noble voice, she proclaimed, "I bestow this gift upon you as a symbol of my appreciation for saving my life." She looked up at him and laughed at the look on his red face as her took the flowers from her. She didn't know why it embarrassed him so but it amused her to no end. She gave him an evil grin. "And also…for having a rump worth pinching!" Laryn giggled as she tried to pinch him as he danced away, crimson faced.

"No rump pinching! What the blazes is wrong with you!" Ralof laughed and dodged away from her, slapping at her hands. Their fun spooked a deer and it ran across the path in front of them and down into the river.

"Aye , you noisy ragamuffins!" a voice came from over the ridge above the path. A tan elf looked over the edge of the rock above them. He wore simple leathers, his blond hair pulled back into a tail away from his face, bow in hand. "That was my dinner!"

"Faendal!" Ralof exclaimed, spreading his arms open. "It's been a long time, my friend!" Faendal hopped down from the bluff and briefly hugged him. Ralof turned to Laryn. "This is the friend I told you about!"

Faendal regarded Laryn solemnly before embracing her as well. "Greetings, sister Bosmer." He looked over at Ralof and back to her. "I trust this great buffoon isn't troubling you?" he asked, smiling.

Laryn smiled at the other elf. "Aye, he is troubling but I don't hold that against him." Ralof mocked offense and Faendal laughed. They walked along, chatting companionably, heading toward the small village. They spoke of many things, Ralof and Laryn telling him of the trouble at Helgen. Faendal told them of some troubles he was having wooing a girl in the village, showing them a note he wanted someone to give to her as if it was from the other man who was clamoring for her affection; bidding her to be his wife, clean his house and cook his dinner. Laryn read it over, and shook her head. "This is a smart ploy but you can't win her over through deceit, brother," she told him. "Such a thing doesn't prove your love for her." Faendal hung his head as she chastened him, then looked to her hopefully. The woman was the sister of the general store's owner, the other man a bard at the inn. "I have business at her brother's store and I can stop by the inn as well. Let me speak to them first and see what I can learn." Relieved, he thanked her and clapped his hand on her shoulder as they walked through the tall wooden entrance of the town.

Ralof pointed the store out to Laryn, on the right from the main road. "You can go sell all the junk you collected over there. Come meet me at the mill when you're done." He took off down the road between the few wooden buildings of the town, and Faendal said he would wait for her outside the store. She went inside, and sold her goods for a nice profit while hearing a tale of need from the owner, Lucan. She told him she would help him find his missing goods if she found the time and asked after his sister, Camilla. After speaking to the Imperial woman and finding out her feelings for both Faendal and the other man, Laryn left the store. Faendal didn't ask what she had learned inside but instead decided to instruct her in archery as they walked to the mill.

The mill sat across a short bridge, on a small island in the wide river that ran along the western edge of Riverwood. Laryn could see Ralof speaking to a blond Nord woman up in an open wooden structure that housed the mill's saw and raised her hand in greeting to him. She turned and focused on the helpful information coming from Faendal. They both took their bows off of their shoulders and proceeded to aim and shoot arrows at a stump under a tree close to the mill, chatting amicably as they waited for Ralof.

ooooo

"She has beautiful hair," Gerdur said as she and Ralof watched the elves take shots below them. Laryn's long red hair blazed like fire in the dappled sunlight as she walked over to the stump to retrieve their arrows. Ralof had spent the last few minutes telling her of their capture, the dragon, escaping Helgen and anything else he could think of. Gerdur had admonished him to take their information to the Jarl in Whiterun, thinking the town needed protection from the dragon, before commenting on Laryn's looks. Ralof knew what was coming next. She turned to him and asked, "What is your interest in her?"

Ralof groaned. "Blood and ashes, sister! I know you pretty much run this village, but is marrying me off all you can think about?" He leaned his elbows onto the wooden ledge next to the saw, overlooking the two Bosmer. "We've only known each other one day and yesterday at this time, we were running away from a giant dragon!"

Gerdur pushed her long blond hair behind her ear and smiled at Ralof, putting a hand on his arm. "I only wish you to be happy, Ralof. You smiled as soon as you saw her approaching."

"Of course I did! I do really like her, just not…like _that_." He stood up from the rail and turned to Gerdur. He sighed and pulled her into a hug. "May we rest at your house?"

She snorted and waved her hand at him. "Why do you even ask me that, brother? You may take all you need from our house. Delphine will give us a room at the inn if you wish to stay at our house, or would give you and your friend rooms as well. You know this."

"We won't be staying that long, Gerdy. We'd like to make it to Whiterun by nightfall and take the carriage to Riften."

Gerdur wrinkled her nose. "What do you want to do there? That town is all thieves and scoundrels!"

He shrugged as they turned to descend the steps. "That's where Laryn wants to go."

Gerdur laughed and poked him in the stomach. "She already has you wrapped around her finger, brother."

ooooo

Ralof rested at his sister's house for a few hours after introducing Laryn and his sister. They seemed to get along and he had fallen asleep listening to them talk. When he woke up they were both gone so he gathered some supplies and headed to the inn to find Laryn. He found her sitting on a bench in the dark inn across one of the tables from Faendal, who had his arm around a pretty brunette Imperial. They were talking softly, ignoring Laryn completely. He sat his pack down and slid onto the bench next to her, eyeing the forlorn bard across the room that was slamming down ale.

He looked at Laryn, over to the couple across the table, then back to Laryn who smiled. "I'll tell you later," she whispered and swallowed the last of her drink. "I've been busy while you've been lying about." She gestured with her empty tankard across the table. "I also found out I'm pretty good at forging weapons."

"You met Alvor? He's a good man. I apprenticed with him. You remember Hadvar back in Helgen?" Ralof asked as he stood to approach the barkeep. Laryn nodded. "That was Alvor's son. Faendal and I ran around with him as children. I suspect that's why he let us leave." He walked over to the bar and returned with a bowl of stew and his own tankard of ale. He sat them on the table and started to sit, and Laryn grabbed the ale.

"Thank you so much!" she grinned and took a sip. Ralof stood again, grumbling at her and went back for another.

"You two get along well," Faendal remarked, finally turning away from Camilla. "Ralof was always moody growing up but he seems very happywith you. You're good for him, sister."

Laryn shook her head and replied, "It's not like that Faendal, though I do like him very much."

"You like who very much?" Ralof asked as he sat down with a new tankard.

Laryn blushed into her ale. "Faendal seems to think we're together."

Ralof snorted and took a bite of his stew. "My sister thought so too. What is wrong with you people?" They finished their drinks and meals and stood to leave. Faendal embraced them both, bid them to have a good journey and to please return soon. Leaving the inn, they turned down the road to Whiterun, crossing the river. Laryn told him about how she had solved Faendal's problem. The other man had wanted her to deliver a letter to Camilla much as Faendal had. She found it funny that the two men had the exact same idea to try to turn the tables in their favor. Laryn had returned to Camilla and showed her the note, explaining that it was not from Faendal but was written by the other man. Camilla had stomped over to the inn and yelled at the man, then sought out Faendal. Laryn didn't stay for their conversation but when she returned to the inn and had seen the love in their eyes, she knew she had done the right thing.

Shortly after leaving the town, she spotted a red shape scampering along the rocks next to the river. She pulled a chunk of venison that she had bought at the inn out of her pack and tossed it to the fox. "You'll have to stay here, little friend. We have a long way to go." The animal blinked at her, then picked up the venison and ran off.

"Aw, why'd you do that?" Ralof asked as they rounded a hill and saw the city of Whiterun in the distance.

Laryn shrugged. "I just don't want him to get mauled by one of the beasties we seem to attract. Those wolves earlier could have killed him." They followed the road, farms springing up around them. Ralof pointed out that one of the buildings was actually a meadery and stated that he would rather have good strong ale like a real man. They made it to the city just as night was falling. Below the gates of Whiterun, close to the stable, was a man sitting in a rickety wagon with a horse already bridled to it.

"How much to get to Riften?" Ralof asked as they approached.

"20 gold," the old man replied. "Ought to be there by morning, maybe. Can't get the wagon over them mountains, you know." Laryn dug in her coin purse and handed him the gold. "Climb in then."

They hopped in the back, the old man clucking the horses into motion. He chattered away, telling them about the city they were going to. Laryn watched the dark countryside go by, and soon saw a small dark shadow trailing the carriage. "I don't think our friend listened," she whispered as she pointed the shadow out to Ralof before leaning back and closing her eyes, nodding off as she listened to the carriage driver drone on and on.

"Name's Thad just so ya know and I been to Riften before lotsa times. Got this horse right here at the stable. Good horses they got there, I say. Never go in though, all them thieves'd take my gold. Ain't got much but they'd sure take it. I 'member this time the Khajiit caravan were there…"


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Just wanted to let everyone know that the next couple of chapters may be slower being published than the last few. I'm going out of state of vacation and when I come back, I have to eradicate the Reaper menace and save the galaxy. **_

_**Thanks to everyone reading, I'm glad you enjoy it…at least I think you do. Still not reviewing! NO WAFFLES FOR YOU! But, super awesome writer alyssacousland did so thank you, lady!(waffles are in the mail)**_

_**Bethesda owns SO MUCH STUFF**_

Chapter 5: A Chance Arrangement

Ralof snapped awake shortly before dawn, the eastern sky just beginning to lighten to a lavender purple. He felt a weight on his arm and looked over to find Laryn sleeping soundly with her head on his shoulder. He smiled to himself and looked around. They were moving along the edge of Lake Honrich, the Mistveil Keep rising from behind Riften's walls a short way down the road and Thad was still jabbering away. "Laryn," he whispered and shook her lightly. She gave a little snore and kept sleeping. He shook her harder. "Hey, Elfy! Wake up!" She awoke with a start and a confused look on her face. "We're just about there."

Laryn blinked sleepily and looked around as they pulled up to the city gate. The sun was now peeking over the horizon, casting long shadows among the trees. They stood up, thanking Thad for his services and hopped down to the ground. The door of the city was barred and guards stood in front of it.

"Aye, travelers!" one of the guards said as they approached. "Riften is closed to visitors unless you pay the visitors' tax."

Laryn laughed at the guard. "Is that so? This sounds like a shake down to me. How about you, Ralof?" He nodded darkly and eased his sword in its scabbard.

The guard immediately raised his hands in a placating gesture and told them, "Oh, ah…I think I was mistaken. Let's keep this quiet, yeah?"

Laryn raised an eyebrow at the man and said, "Yeah, but if I need a favor, I'm coming back." The guard stepped aside and they walked through the large wooden door.

Ralof laughed. "I'm already glad we came here. Maybe we'll have more fun inside!" They walked through the doors and Laryn got her first glimpse of the city. Built on the edge of Lake Honrich, Riften was a mass of bridges built high over canals, reminding her of Bravil back in Cyrodiil. Some of the buildings were actually on the land at the edge of the lake but some stood on stilts above the water, a second story of dwellings below. The city was edged with a temple, a meadery and fishery along the lake side and at the far end of the town sat the Keep, rising above the marketplace where soon the owners of the stalls scattered around it would be hawking their wares.

A gruff looking man stood just inside the doors, leaning against one of the pillars holding up the porch of a shabby house. "I don't know you," he said, straightening and moving to stand in front of them. "You in Riften looking for trouble?"

Ralof stepped in between Laryn and the other man. "We're looking for work. Where can we find Brynjolf?"

The man stood there for a moment, sizing them up before standing aside and pointing to a large stilted building in the center of the town. "Try the Bee and Barb. Don't do anything stupid while you're here or you'll have to deal with me again." He turned and stomped off out of the city gate.

"What a friendly bunch of people here!" Laryn exclaimed as they crossed the bridge to the building. They went inside the inn and walked toward the Argonian woman tending the bar. Ralof was about to talk to her when a tall man with shoulder length red hair came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Ralof! What are you doing here, lad?" Laryn watched the men shake hands and exchange pleasantries, wondering where he was from that he pronounced his words so strangely.

"Brynjolf, this is my friend Laryn," Ralof said as he stepped aside. "She's looking for work here."

"Pleased to meet you, lass," Brynjolf said as he shook Laryn's hand. "I could almost smell the gold jingling in your purse. The way you carry yourself, I know you didn't come by it all honestly, eh?" They walked over to a table in the corner and sat while Ralof ordered a drink. "I might have some work, but you'll have to prove your worth first."

"Are you from the Guild?" Laryn asked. "I worked for them back in Cyrodiil." Ralof came to the table carrying a plate with boiled eggs and bread on it and set it on the table next to Laryn before wandering away, knowing the conversation was not something he should be a part of.

"Aye. That I am, lass. Pity the Guild fell apart there. It's in the process of falling apart here too." He looked around, eyeing the patrons of the inn before leaning closer and lowering his voice. "Hardly any contracts come in and when they do, something always goes wrong. Things that shouldn't. A mark that goes to sleep every night at the same time, for some reason stays up reading, or one who spends two hours' time at the temple every night comes home early. Our luck is gone, lass. It's like a curse."

Laryn nodded and told him of the pitfalls of the Cyrodiil Guild as she ate her breakfast. The lack of contracts, one of her fellow Guild members was stabbed by his mark who was sleepwalking, and Laryn had actually had to flee a mark's house when he woke up from the sound of a book falling off of a shelf across the room. She agreed that it was all very strange, but left out the mess of her last job that had made her flee for her life.

"Your knowledge of this tells me that you were truly part of the Guild, but I need to see for myself how you work. Meet me at my stall in the marketplace at noon." He quickly stood, speaking with Ralof at the bar for a moment before leaving.

Ralof walked back over and sat down, taking the last egg from the plate. "Well?" he asked as he dabbed it in the bowl of salt on the table.

"He might have work for me if I meet his expectations. I'm to meet him at noon. Until then, I'm going to walk around the city and get my bearings. Will you come with me?"

Ralof shook his head as he took a bite. "I spoke to the armorer as he was here eating breakfast. He'll let me use the forge to make some new armor. I can't chance running into Imperial soldiers if I'm following you around like a puppy all over Skyrim. I'll come find you when I'm done." He stood, wiping his hands on his pants and wagged his finger at her. "Don't get lost!"

ooooo

Laryn emerged from the Black-Briar Meadery, having just taken a tour and looked up at the sky, digging into her pack. She had spent most of the morning wandering around aimlessly, but had found a few shops scattered throughout the town and had bought some things at the food stall. The woman who owned it had asked her to find ice wraith teeth, and Laryn had agreed to help, though wasn't looking forward to retrieving them. She had come across a wraith on her journey and if not for the flame enchantment on her sword, she wouldn't have walked away from it.

The sun was approaching its zenith and she was right next to the marketplace. She heard the ringing of a hammer on an anvil, and turned to look at the forge. Ralof was standing there, bare chested but with a long leather apron, hammering on a glowing piece of metal. She walked closer and watched as he continued to beat the hot metal, completely oblivious to her as he concentrated on his work. He turned and shoved the metal back into the coals. Rubbing the back of his hand across his forehead, he closed his eyes as he wiped the sweat away. When he opened them again, Laryn was standing directly in front of him gnawing on a piece of dried beef and holding a cloth wrapped bundle out to him, making him jump. "I thought you'd be hungry."

"Are you _trying_ to kill me?" he asked, taking the bundle from her and sitting it on the bench beside him before turning away to work the bellows. He pushed and pulled the arms of the bellows in slow even strokes, causing the coals to turn from orange to yellow to white.

Laryn shrugged. "Maybe, but I won't have to. One spark hits that hairy chest of yours, and I'll have to push you into the canal to put you out," she replied. He smiled and took the now yellow-white piece of metal back out of the coals and began hammering again. She watched for a moment and realized what he was forging. "I thought you were going to make yourself new armor."

Ralof looked up at her, then back down to his work. "I told the armorer that I would help with his orders in exchange for use of the forge."

"Oh, well that's nice of you." She looked up at the sky, then scanned the stalls for Brynjolf. "I got us rooms at the Bee and Barb. There's another place here that advertises as a bunkhouse, but I think it might actually be a brothel. Ah, there he is," she said as she finally spied Brynjolf. "I'll see you later."

Ralof looked up as she turned to leave. "Thank you for the food, but can you try not to sneak up on me next time?"

"But it's much more fun that way," she grinned, then headed towards the stalls.

Ralof smiled down at the steel in his hand. _I wish she wouldn't have seen this, _he thought to himself as he finished tapering the steel and quenched it in the barrel of water next to the anvil, more than ready to dig in to the lunch she had brought.

ooooo

Laryn crouched next to a bright green and blue Argonian named Madesi's stall in the marketplace, waiting for Brynjolf to get everyone's attention. She was supposed to steal a ring from inside the strongbox under the stall and plant it in someone's pocket. _I was actually hoping for a challenge,_ Laryn thought as Brynjolf started shouting about the potions he had for sale. Everyone around the square turned to listen to him and she took her chance. She easily unlocked the sliding door beneath the stall and began on the strongbox. Her lockpick caught on the inner workings and she smiled to herself as she twisted it at an angle. The box popped open, revealing a pouch of gold and a fancy ring. She took them both before quietly closing the box and sliding the door shut again.

Peeking up over the stall, she spotted the Dunmer whose pocket she needed to slip the ring, sitting on a box a few feet away. She inched over to him, keeping flat against the stall and extended her arm, placing the ring into the lip of his front pocket. He didn't notice, enthralled with Brynjolf's wares. Sliding back along the stall, she popped up to a standing position at the opposite corner and walked over to the group of people surrounding Brynjolf as if it had been her destination all along. He saw her slight nod and ended his speech, the crowd dispersing. When the Dunmer stood, the ring fell off the cusp of his pocket as she had planned and rolled to the feet of Madesi, who was standing next to him. Immediately recognizing his ring, the Argonian accused the elf of stealing it, yelling for the guards.

Brynjolf walked over to her and they watched the guards drag the elf away. "You're good, lass. I figured you would be. I'll take you down to the Ragged Flagon and introduce you around." She followed as he took the steps down to the lower part of the city. He unlocked a door and motioned her to follow into the tunnel behind it. It weaved around underneath the marketplace, torches placed here and there on the stone walls. "Normally, you'd have to pass through the Ratways as another test, but I don't think that's necessary for you," he told her as they crossed a rickety drawbridge. "The bandits and skeevers down there aren't exactly friendly." He led her around a corner and they came to another door. "Welcome to the Ragged Flagon."

ooooo

_I'm glad Ralof wasn't there to see me do that,_ Laryn thought as she walked out of The Pawned Prawn. _He seems to see me for who I really am, not what I do._ Brynjolf had taken her to a man named Mercer Frey, who led what was left of the Guild. He didn't seem like a very nice man, nor did he seem like he wanted her there. He had given her her first task, which was to "lean on" the shop owners around Riften to pay their debts to the Guild. The owner of the bunkhouse easily paid when Laryn stole her precious statue of Dibella and threatened that she would never get it back. That one was easy but Laryn felt guilty for her actions inside The Pawned Prawn, which was something new for her when it came to a job. She had smashed the man's prized possession, an ornate Dwemer urn, on the floor when he would not give her the coin. He had seemed very scared of her after that and gave her what she asked for, but Laryn was sure she heard him crying as she shut the door behind her.

She walked through the marketplace, making her way to the inn and saw the smithy was devoid of people, the coals black and cold. It had grown late as she had walked around the Ragged Flagon, talking with her new cohorts. None of her superiors seemed to care to take notice of her, with the exception of Brynjolf and another man named Delvin, who said he would line up some small jobs for her once she proved herself to the Guild.

Laryn entered the Bee and Barb with a hot bath on her mind. It seemed to her that most of the people in Skyrim didn't bathe regularly, which was perfectly fine in some cases, but she preferred to be clean whenever possible. She approached the innkeeper behind the bar, who didn't seem happy to see her.

"I've got your money," Keerava said, the brown scales of her face stretching into a nervous smile. "Here." She handed Laryn a pouch of gold and started to wipe the bar down vigorously with the towel in her hand.

Laryn knew that the proprietor of the Bee and Barb had an outstanding debt with the Guild, but had planned on waiting until morning to broach the subject. _Word travels fast here in Riften. _She took the proffered pouch of gold. "Thank you Keerava, but actually I was going to ask after a bath and dinner." She smiled at the reptilian woman, hoping her work for the Guild wouldn't have an effect on her stay at the inn.

"Ah, yes. Very good. I'll send someone to your room. Will you eat in the common room?" Keerava still sounded very nervous and was rambling. "I have a roast venison, or salmon, or we can make anything you wa-"

"Keerava," Laryn interrupted, looking into her eyes sympathetically. "Please calm down. I'm only doing my job. Anything you have on hand would be perfect, and I'll come back down after my bath."

The Argonian visibly relaxed. "I know I should have paid long ago," she said, looking down at the bar, even the horns crowning her head seemed to droop in resignation. "It just…seemed like it didn't matter anymore. The Guild isn't what it used to be."

"I understand, my friend. Hopefully, I can help to make it what it once was. The Guild will need the cooperation of Riften's businesses to succeed. I've seen a few members around. Would you be willing to give a reduced price on drinks and food to them for the time being as a sign of good faith?" Laryn asked. She didn't have the prominence to make such a deal, but thought it would profit both sides, regardless that the Ragged Flagon itself was a bar.

"Of course. I don't think Brynjolf has paid for a drink in years," Keerava said as she smiled. "I don't want them to think I ever wished them ill will by ignoring my debt."

"Just a discount, not completely free. More money flowing into the Guild will have a huge effect on this city. More money in our pockets will mean more profits for every business here when we spend it." Maybe it was her guilt from destroying the urn earlier, maybe it was that Keerava seemed sincere in her apology, but Laryn really wanted to help her.

"Ah, yes. You make sense. I will inform my workers at once. Please, go about your business. I will have hot water up to you shortly, mistress."

"It's just Laryn, Keerava. Thank you," she said as she left the bar.

ooooo

Fresh from bathing and in a clean tunic and breeches, Laryn returned to the common room. A bard was playing a joyful tune on his flute, and the noise of the patrons trying to talk over the music was almost deafening. She scanned the crowd for Ralof, but didn't see him so she went back to Keerava to order her supper and sat at the only empty table to wait.

Things weren't going exactly as she had planned, but she was content. She had re-joined a group of people who shared the same calling as she, escaped the perils of Cyrodiil, and had found a true friend in the process. She truly liked Ralof, who seemed to have taken upon himself the task of caring for her. The arrow extraction aside, it didn't escape her notice that he had stepped between her and the angry man upon entering the city and brought her breakfast this morning, so she reciprocated in bringing him dinner as he worked in the forge. Her family had died years ago in a series of accidents that she was sure were not. She knew it was because of who they were and had escaped into the Guild, using it as a shield. Since then, she had not grown close with any other being than herself. She knew herself inside and out. She knew she would do whatever she needed to survive, whether it was to flee, steal, or kill.

But then Ralof had come along, helping her at his own detriment, making her smile in the face of danger and making her want to care again so easily. Sure, he played off her wit and jokes, but what would he say if he knew who she really was? What would he say if he knew the things she'd done, that she was not virgin to killing innocents, that she would not hesitate to do so again if it meant she would live another day? She didn't want him to know that side of her regardless of his Nordic heritage. He seemed…pure, in a way. He had much more of a conscience than she and that worried her.

She'd only known the man for two days yet was worried about losing him if he found out about her past? What does that mean? She scoffed to herself as one of the inn's employees set her dinner in front of her. She said an absentminded "thank you" and retreated into her thoughts, staring blankly at her supper. She inhaled sharply in her reverie as she realized that two days ago, she would not have felt guilt at destroying that man's property earlier and as she thought about it, she probably _would_ hesitate to kill again. Either Ralof's good morals were rubbing off on her, or…

The subject of her thoughts sat down across the table from her. "I finished my armor, but I have a few things yet to do for the smithy. I figured we'd be here for a while, so I told him I'd continue working on…what's wrong?" Ralof asked, his blond brow frowning in concern.

"Nothing," Laryn replied as she smiled and finally dug into her venison. "I was just thinking about you."


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: This came out a bit longer than expected. I don't really have a set amount of words per chapter, I just decide what I want to cover and do it. I also edited this one myself, so hopefully it makes sense and there aren't too many errors. If there is, I'm sorry. Look at the avatar pic on my profile and you'll see why. :D**_

_**Thank you to alyssacousland for the review. Again, if you want some great Dragon Age fanfics, look her up!**_

_**BETHESDA!**_

Chapter 6: Loud and Clear

The following morning, Laryn returned to the Ragged Flagon, having retrieved all of the debts owed to the Guild. She found Brynjolf sitting at a table with Delvin. Plunking the coin purse on the table in front of him she said, "It's done. Keerava sends her apologies and will discount all Guild members' drinks and food."

Brynjolf smiled and pocketed the purse. "Very good, lass. I knew she wouldn't be a problem, she's a good woman. " He rose and motioned her to follow him down into the cistern.

They spoke again to Mercer, who still seemed to not like her. "You'd better not be wasting my time with this, Brynjolf. Maven wants it done now. If Vex and Delvin failed, this whelp won't do any better," he scowled.

"She's damn good, Mercer. She's not a green recruit. She can handle it," Brynjolf said, and clapped Laryn's shoulder in reassurance.

Mercer snorted and shook his head, but informed Laryn of the situation. Goldenglow Estate was a bee farm operation on an island in Lake Honrich that supplied the honey used in the Black-Briar Meadery's mead. The owner, Aringoth, had started to supply his honey to other meaderies, and Maven Black-Briar was not happy about it. Laryn was to make an example out of him by wrecking some of the beehives and raiding his safe, to try and find out where his uppity confidence was coming from.

"Don't worry about Mercer, lass. He doesn't like anyone anymore," Brynjolf said as they left the cistern. "If I were you, I'd talk to Vex and see if she's got any helpful tips about the Estate. You should also talk to Tonalia before you go. She'll be your fence down here to sell your stolen goods and as a new Guild member, she'll have something for you. By the way, normally we frown upon killing anyone while on a contract but…do what you have to. Maven won't care so long as it's done."

Laryn walked over to the haughty blond Nord standing at the bar. "Vex, Brynjolf said I should talk to you about Goldenglow Estate." The woman told her that there were hired mercenaries all over the grounds, but that they had found a sewer entrance on the side of the island that came out just by the estate's back door. She thanked Vex for the help and spoke with Tonalia, a dark skinned Redguard, sitting at a table. Tonalia gave her a set of the Thieves Guild armor; enchanted to help with sneaking, pickpocketing and would enable Laryn to carry more loot.

Leaving the Ragged Flagon, Laryn waved to Ralof at the smithy as she walked past and returned to the inn to change into her new armor. It was dark brown leather and though Laryn preferred her old black armor, it fit well and the enchantments would help immensely. She left the inn and walked out of the city gates, eyeing the guard and nodding at him as she trotted past.

Laryn took the path that ran around the side of the lake, wanting to take a look at the estate in the daylight before returning after the sun set. As she made her way around the side of the city, an orange form ran in front of her on the dirt track and slowed its pace to walk next to her. "Well, hello again. Didn't I ask you to stay back in Riverwood?" she asked the fox. It looked up at her and huffed, then kept walking. Laryn laughed. "Maybe you could help me," she wondered aloud. She knew she would not be able to get close to Goldenglow with the mercenaries wandering about the grounds. Laryn had never tried to command animals, but her mother had told her how when she was a child. It was a matter of meditation, letting your mind escape its physical bounds and enter a willing animal. If you were good at it you could force your way in to any animal's mind whether willing or not, but since the fox was so friendly with her it might work.

They came to the bridge leading to the estate and Laryn sat down behind a tree out of sight from Goldenglow, her friend sitting next to her. "I'd like you to help me look around over there," she told the fox as she pointed to the estate behind her. It followed her finger and looked at the building in the distance, then back at her and blinked. "I've never done this before, friend. I hope it works." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree. Clearing her head, she relaxed her muscles. In her mind's eye, she saw herself as the fox walking through the woods, chasing after a rabbit, nipping playfully at the crabs on the shore of a stream.

Thinking it wasn't working, she opened her eyes and found she was closer to the ground, staring at herself with her head back against the tree. She looked down at her feet which were little black paws. _It actually worked!_ She stood and after becoming accustomed to having four legs, trotted down the bridge hoping the mercenaries wouldn't feel the need for a fox pelt. As the fox, she felt the need to mark a nearby tree as her territory. _I was right, he is a he_, she thought absurdly. She slowed as she drew nearer to the estate and started to see some of the mercenaries keeping watch. One of them noticed her and pointed her out to the bandit next to him then turned away, ignoring her. _Good. No fox-lined gloves today._

Entering the grounds, she looked around and noted the positions of the guards as she turned towards the beehives. There were five of them at the crest of a hill, bees buzzing around them and the flowers dotting the hill. To one side of the hill was a wooden shack with an unlit torch in a sconce next to the door. Making a mental note of the torch, she hopped down into the water to try to find the sewer entrance. She paddled around the island, finding a ship moored to a small dock and continued around it. She found what she was looking for on the other side and climbed up onto the rocky shore next to the sewer grate.

Fox-Laryn looked around at the shore across the lake for landmarks so she knew where to come tonight, then flopped into the water again and swam back to the shore where her body was waiting. She sat down next to herself and concentrated as she had before; this time thinking of herself sneaking along the stall in the marketplace, laughing and clapping with the music as she and Ralof had attempted a silly local dance at the inn the night before and failing miserably.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the scrawny wet fox. "That was amazing, my friend. Thank you," she told him as she dug around in her pack. She took out a chunk of venison and a towel, tossing the meat to the ground for the fox. He ate it greedily, and she dried him off as best she could. She rose and her friend followed suit, trotting alongside her as she returned to the city. As they reached the gates, she told him, "I'll be back after dark."

ooooo

Laryn crouched outside the back door of the estate, working on the lock. Even though her armor was brown, she blended in with the inky darkness. She had waited until after midnight hoping to catch Aringoth asleep as she was sure he would have the safe's key on him at all times. Earlier, as they chatted over supper at the inn while she waited, she had told Ralof of her experience with the fox and he had been proud of her for embracing her heritage as he did. On her way out of town the fox found her. She had given him some more venison she had purchased for him, bidding the fox to stay around the town as what she was doing would be dangerous for him and he had listened, scampering off into the dark with his treat.

This lock was more intricate than most but Laryn was practiced and patient. After a few minutes of probing around and finding the right angle to twist her lockpick, it clicked open. She opened it slightly and poked her hooded head into the building. She didn't see a soul so she slinked into the room and closed the door lightly behind her. Staying low and flush against the wall, she followed the hallway until it turned, opening into a large dining room which was devoid of people. She crossed the room and found a staircase leading up to the second floor.

At the top of the steps, she could hear voices at the end of the hallway. Ahead of her, where the hallway made an L, were three mercenaries who seemed quite drunk. Surveying the hall leading up to them, she found a door which she opened, looking around. It was an empty bedroom with another doorway in the opposite corner. _That should bypass those drunkards._ Crossing the room quickly, she pulled her dagger out of its sheath on her hip, holding it with the flat of the blade against the back of her forearm. She opened the door an inch and leaned her head back against the wall trying to see if her hunch had been right. She heard more than saw them down the hallway as she slipped out the door leaving it slightly ajar.

Laryn stayed flat against the wall as she prowled down the hallway. It made another turn which ended in a door. Opening it slowly and quietly, she found the master bedroom with who she assumed was Aringoth sleeping in the bed. Slipping silently across the room, she slithered her hand into the pocket of his sleeping robe and felt around carefully. Her hand touched metal and she smiled. She pulled the key out of his pocket and he grumbled in his sleep but continued snoring. As she turned, a shiny gold statue on a nearby shelf caught her eye. She picked it up and examined it. In the shape of a large bee on a piece of honeycomb, it was heavy enough to be solid gold so she slipped it in her pack. She looted the chest at the foot of the bed, finding a large amount of gold and pocketed that as well before leaving the room.

Laryn returned the way she had come, the drunken men in the hallway still oblivious to her presence. Tracing her steps through the estate, she looked around for the basement door where she knew the safe was kept. She found it close to where she had entered and descended the stairs, slowing when she heard voices. At the base of the steps was a large room with big storing vats along one wall and men sitting at a table in front of them. Looking around, Laryn found a hallway leading away from the room and pressed herself against the wall, inching slowly until she reached it. This hallway turned back and forth leading farther beneath the estate. At the end of the hallway she heard the rasp of metal on wood. Peeking around the corner, she saw a man whittling away on a stick, sitting in a chair directly across from the only other way leading out of the room.

Reaching a hand into her breast pocket, Laryn retrieved one of the pebbles she kept there. She tossed it across the room and down the other hall, hearing it bounce around on the stone walls. The mercenary heard it as well and swore before jumping up and jogging down the hall to investigate the noise. Laryn quickly crossed the room and crouched against the wall right next to the hallway's entrance, listening to the man grumble as he walked back towards the room.

Laryn gripped the dagger in her fist and waited. As soon as the mercenary entered the room, she slipped behind him and down the hall into a patch of shadow, watching the man return to his chair before continuing.

At the end of the hallway sat a large metal safe and she put the key into the lock. The door opened, revealing more gold and some papers which she tucked away before closing the safe, relocking it, and sitting the key on top. _How's that for a message?_ She smirked and turned towards the door on the other side of the room.

The door opened to the outside of the estate and Laryn crouched behind a nearby barrel. She watched a mercenary walk out of the darkness, look around and walk back the way he came. She counted in her head as she waited, knowing that he was patrolling and would be back. The man returned at the count of twenty. He turned around and she slipped behind him, counting as she rushed towards the beehives. The unlit torch on the shack from earlier was now lit. At twenty, she removed it and lit three of the beehives before dropping the torch and running to the nearby rocks, sliding silently into the lake.

Laryn swam around the edge of the island, coming to the bridge. She floated in the frigid water under the concealment of the bridge for a few moments before hearing shouts of alarm coming from the island. She smiled and swam to shore.

ooooo

Laryn returned to the Ragged Flagon still dripping and shivering. Delvin was still awake drinking with Dirge, an extremely unfriendly man whom she met the day before.

"Sit down before you fall over, girl!" Delvin exclaimed when he saw her. Instead, she pulled the papers she had found at the estate from under her armor where they had miraculously stayed dry and slapped them on the table in front of him. "You did it? Well, well. Brynjolf was right about you." She stood there shifting her weight from foot to foot, making squishing noises in her boots as she waited for him to read it. Dirge gave her a dirty look but said nothing.

Brynjolf emerged from the cistern just as Delvin finished reading. He handed Brynjolf the paper, who in turn read it as well. "I think you'd best take this to Maven Black-Briar, lass," he said when he lowered the note. "She will not be happy, that's for sure. You can find her over at the Bee and Barb on the second floor. I'll inform Mercer." He dug a coin purse out of his pocket and tossed it to her before leaving. "I knew you could handle it."

As she was turning to go, Laryn remembered the bee statue. She dug it out of her pack and set it gently on the table. "I found this at Goldenglow. How much do you think it's worth?"

Delvin whistled through his teeth. "Aye now, this is a beauty. I'll give you 300 gold for it." Laryn nodded and Delvin set about counting out coins. "If you find anything else unique like this while you're out burgling, bring it to me and I'll see what I can do."

ooooo

The following morning, Laryn found Maven sitting in the hallway of the inn as she was leaving her room for breakfast. She was an attractive, well-dressed woman with an air of cold dignity about her. Laryn showed her what she had found at the estate and as Brynjolf predicted, she was not happy at what she read.

"Nobody just magically gets the coin to open a meadery to compete with me! I make the absolute BEST mead in Skyrim, no-in all of Tamriel! I will not sit idly by while someone tries to usurp my power." She thought for a moment and smiled. "Go to Whiterun and find Mallus Maccius. Explain the problem and tell him it must be eradicated. Burn the bloody place down if you have to but find out who is funding it first and foremost."

Laryn didn't let the woman's icy disposition get to her and skipped down the steps, finding Ralof poking some ham and eggs around his plate at a table in the corner. Laryn got a plate of the same from Keerava and joined him. He looked up at her and smiled.

"When did you get in last night?" he asked, finally taking a bite of his breakfast. "I waited around for you for a bit but had a few too many ales and went to bed. I knocked on your door earlier and you didn't answer."

"I only got in a few hours ago," she replied, digging in to her food. "I took a swim in Lake Honrich and I was dead tired. I'm sorry I worried you. I looked like a drowned skeever when I got in."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad, Elfy," he said, smiling. "How did it go?"

"I got the job done, of course. Riften's best couldn't do it," she grinned as she cut into her ham. "I have another already, back in Whiterun. Would you like to come with me?"

Ralof nodded, finishing his food. "My armor is done and I helped the smithy catch up on all of his orders. He did ask if I could find fire salts for the forge though. I told him I would try, but no guarantees," he said as he stood. "I'll go change and pack. Could we just walk this time? I'd really rather not listen to that man jabber the whole way there."

"I've got a better idea," she replied, shoveling the last of her breakfast into her mouth. "I've already got quite a bit of gold. We could just ride ourselves."

ooooo

After washing up and dressing in her new armor, Laryn returned to the common room and bought some supplies from Keerava, insisting on paying her full price. Ralof soon followed and she commented on his new armor; dark gray steel breastplate, gauntlets, greaves and boots with bear fur trimming. "Oh, don't you look ravishing!" Laryn said.

Ralof blushed. "Are we ready to go, then?" he asked as he studied the bar.

"Yes we are. Why won't you lighten up? Your hind end looks wonderful in your new armor," she told him and winked. Ralof looked mortified as they left the inn, making Laryn laugh. They went out to the stables, where Laryn bought them each a dappled gray and white horse.

Making their way quickly across the terrain with an orange shadow trailing them, they ate their lunch in the saddle and only stopped as night started to fall. They found a clearing off the road surrounded on three sides by tall pine trees and made camp. Ralof unfastened a wood axe from his saddle and walked off into the trees as Laryn pitched the large newly purchased tent, big enough for both of them and new bedrolls as well.

When Ralof returned, he started the fire as Laryn prepared a stew for their dinner, chopping up part of a leg of venison along with carrots and an onion. When she was finished, she hung the pot over the fire just as Ralof finished stoking it. They stood side by side as they curried and hobbled their horses and when they were done, so was their meal.

As they sat down to eat, Laryn asked, "Have you named your horse yet? I think I'll call mine Bela. My da had a horse named Bela, just as docile as this one seems to be."

Ralof replied, "I thought about it as we rode. He pulls and seems to want to gallop away all the time so I thought I'd name him Swift." Laryn burst out laughing and almost spilled her stew. "What's so funny about that?"

"I'm sorry, Ralof," she said, trying to stifle her giggles. "The horse I rode to Skyrim on was named Swift. I had to eat him!"

"Well, if it comes to that, we're eating Bela first!" They finished their meal and Laryn wiped out their dishes, leaving the remainder of the stew for morning. She fed the fox some leftover meat and told Ralof she was going to retire for the night.

"Wait," Ralof said, turning to his pack. "I have something for you." Laryn sat down beside him with a quizzical look on her face. He turned to her and said, "I hope you don't find this strange. Here in Skyrim, we Nords believe that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." He took a deep breath and held out an ornate black and silver dagger. The blade was slightly curved with long pointy notches along the blade and hand guard, the pommel wrapped in black leather. "I took the arrowheads from the other night and melted them down, then combined it with ebony. I used some of the smithing knowledge I've learned here and there to make a kind of…bastard Daedric dagger."

Laryn looked into Ralof's blue eyes, incredulous. "It's beautiful," she whispered as she took the exquisite dagger in her hands. "You made this…for me?"

Ralof nodded. "I know that I cannot be privy to many of the things that you do," he said softly, looking at the ground in front of him and then back at her. "I just hope that this protects you as well as I would." He saw that her bright yellow-green eyes were glassy, a tear trailing slowly down her cheek. He frowned and brushed it away with his thumb.

"No one has ever cared enough to…" Laryn's face scrunched, trying to hold back more tears. Looking away, she took control of herself and wiped the tears from her face. She turned back to Ralof and cupped his cheek in her palm. "You have no idea what this means to me."

Laryn lifted her face to brush her lips across Ralof's scruffy cheek. She looked up at him, blushing as she smiled. "Thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Hey guys, sorry this chapter took so long! I saved the galaxy (kind of…I guess.) so I can now turn my attention back to Laryn's story.**_

_**Thanks to Lisa for proofing, alyssacousland for the help and review, and to those who have favorited my story! I'm so grateful to you guys for telling me I don't suck. Please, feel free to leave me a review and tell me what you think! **_

_**Bethesda, blah blah blah.**_

Chapter 7: Dampened Spirits

The following morning, they broke camp and made their way to Whiterun which was not far down the road. Laryn had gone to bed shortly after their conversation but had not slept well, dwelling on her loneliness and wondering what Ralof thought of her after she had shamed herself by crying. She had been on her own since she was no more than a child. Hiding in the Cyrodiil Thieves' Guild, she had been introverted towards the other members which had made her seem weak. That Ralof would go to that much effort, make something so beautiful, _for her_ made no sense. Usually when she was given gifts there were strings attached, the person wanted something from her. A few of the members of her former guild had given her gifts before and wanted her body in return. A few of them just took what they wanted. There was no honor in the Cyrodiil guild as there seemed to be in the members of the Skyrim guild, even if they didn't seem to like her.

Laryn knew that Ralof was not like her former guildmates. The one thing that could be said for the Nords was their sense of honor, yet she was confused about his intentions. Did he want more from her? She liked him very much that was true, but she still was uncomfortable being completely open with others. Ever since her family died, she relied on herself and trusted no one…yet she immediately had trusted Ralof with her life. Out of desperation? She didn't think so. It seemed as if they already knew each other before they met, falling into both playful banter and comfortable silence with ease.

"What's wrong, Elfy?" Ralof asked, pulling Laryn out of her thoughts as their horses trotted up to the stable below Whiterun. She hadn't been herself since she had emerged from the tent this morning, giving short answers and avoiding his eyes. He figured that she was embarrassed from the emotion she had shown him before running off to her bedroll, which he had actually been happy to see. To him, it meant that perhaps she was feeling the same for him as he did for her. He had wanted to follow her to bed. Her presence was oddly comforting to him, even if it was from across the tent in a different bedroll. Instead, he had nodded off next to the fire, giving her the privacy he was sure she needed and thinking about what her chaste kiss had meant. It very well could have been just gratitude but he desperately wanted it to be more. _Talos help me, how have I fallen for this woman so quickly?_

"I didn't sleep very well. Next time find us a campsite not covered with pointy rocks," Laryn chided him as she slid gracefully off of her horse, still not meeting his eyes. She was still ashamed of herself but wanted to be her normal self for him. He didn't know why she was as she was. _Maybe I should tell him. Would he understand?_ She supposed he probably would, but knowing who she really was would be dangerous for him. The last thing she wanted to do was see him hurt because of her.

Ralof snorted. "Next time don't set the tent up on top of them!" He knew she was deflecting the subject with humor and he didn't mind. She would talk to him when she was ready.

They entered the city in silence and trudged up the hill to the Bannered Mare, Whiterun's inn. Laryn looked around the city as they followed the path to the inn and noted a few shops of interest. _The Drunken Huntsman?_ Laryn thought, laughing to herself. _I'll have to investigate that one._

Ralof touched Laryn's shoulder as she climbed the steps to the inn. "I should go up to the keep and inform the Jarl of what happened at Helgen. I'm sure he knows by now but I told my sister I would." He smiled at Laryn, who finally met his eyes when she turned to him. "I'll meet you back here after your work is done."

Laryn wasn't sure what she saw in his smile but it made her feel better about the night before and cemented her resolve to tell him what she could about her time in Cyrodiil that wouldn't endanger him. She smiled softly at him. "We will talk then, Ralof," she said, then turned and entered the inn.

ooooo

Laryn straightened from relieving a frostbite spider of its venom, her face twisted in disgust, and continued down the dark stone passageway under the meadery following it to the brewing vats. Her meeting with Mallus Maccius had gone well. He had already hatched a plan to eliminate the Honningbrew Meadery. Honningbrew was to have a tasting with the captain of Whiterun's guards that evening, but was having trouble with skeevers. The owner wanted the pests gone before the tasting and had enlisted Laryn's help to poison them so as not to alert the captain of the vermin's presence. There was a small cavern underneath the storage vats where the skeever were that lead to the brewing vats, where Laryn could poison the fresh batch of mead that the captain would taste.

_All of these jobs are far too easy_, Laryn thought as she rounded a corner and came across a large room etched into the stone below the meadery, where a filthy man dressed in rags was mumbling to himself in the far corner. Laryn immediately crouched and inched her way along the side of the room, drawing nearer to the dirty man and noticed he was not speaking to himself but to a skeever, which he was petting affectionately.

The man sniffed the air and froze, then turned and looked directly at Laryn. "I know why you're here, and you can't have them!" he growled. She slowly moved her hand to the small of her back where she had strapped her new dagger, glad that she had coated it in poison prior to entering the cavern. The man stood and lifted his hands, blue-purple sparks forming between them. "I won't let you take my loyal subjects from me!"

The demented man threw a ball of lightning at Laryn and she jumped to the side, rolling as she hit the ground. She rose into a fighting stance and drew her other dagger from her hip, the skeever that had been friendly with the man before squealing as it ran at her. Hearing more squealing behind her, she jumped at the skeever in front of her, stabbing her enchanted dagger into its back. As it lit up the dark cavern in a purple glow of electricity, she turned in time to see a fireball flying at her as the man screamed in anger.

Laryn dashed behind a stone column and peeked around the side. Two more skeever were almost to her, gnashing their teeth as they ran. The grimy mage had another ball of fire brewing between his hands. She leaped from behind the column and kicked the nearer skeever into the wall as she drove her blade into the second. She pulled her blade from the flickering corpse of the vermin and turned to stomp on the other as it tried to rise from the floor, snapping its spine. With a blood curdling shriek, the stringy haired man unleashed the flaming orb at her. She rolled to the side, flipping Ralof's gift in her hand as she rose to grasp it by the tip and flung it at the mage, who fell down in a heap.

_That's more like it!_ Laryn smiled as she crossed the room to retrieve her dagger from the throat of the vagrant man. She found a chest with the man's belongings including a journal, which she kept for an amusing read later. Continuing through the cavern, she finally emerged into the other side of the meadery, which contained the brewing vat. The workers were afraid of the skeevers so she knew there would be no one near. She found the steps leading to the top of the vat, dropped the last of the skeever poison into it and exited the meadery only to walk around the side of the building and back in through the front door.

The owner of Honningbrew was pleased to see her but kept mum about the vermin since the guard captain was already there, as was Mallus Maccius who smiled knowingly. A few minutes later, a worker appeared with a fresh keg of mead, and Laryn and Mallus stood to the side as the captain tasted it. After a few moments he started choking and sputtering, then fell to one knee as he yelled at the other guards to arrest the owner. The captain vomited on the floor, then rose and followed the guards weakly as they dragged the owner back to Whiterun. Mallus congratulated her and informed her that he would be head of the meadery now in Maven's stead and would provide a fence if she needed it. Laryn thanked him, telling him that she needed to go through the meadery's paperwork for Maven and proceeded to the former owner's room.

She found what looked to be important papers in the strongbox and pocketed them along with a fancy decanter she thought Delvin might be interested in, then made the short trip back to the Bannered Mare.

ooooo

Laryn finished plaiting her long red hair after her bath and pulled the braid over her shoulder with a sigh. Clad in a white linen tunic and black suede breeches, she rose from the bed and made her way down to the common room where she found Ralof sitting at a table, nursing a tankard of ale. She went to the bar for a tankard of her own and slid onto the bench across from him.

"So when I was leaving Dragonsreach earlier, the guards were bringing in a man who was yelling about how his mead was the best in Skyrim and that he'd never try to poison the captain of the guard," Ralof grinned and cocked an eyebrow at her as he took a swig of his ale.

Laryn gasped, feigning surprise. "Why in the world would he do that?"

Ralof chuckled and looked over at the Redguard serving girl, who nodded and went into the kitchen. "I figured you'd be hungry even if you _didn't do anything_ today, so I told the serving girl to bring us some dinner when she saw the pretty redhead sit down with me."

Laryn blushed and turned the conversation to the mage living under the meadery. She had read his journal as she relaxed after her bath, and found it quite interesting. Hamelyn had been a mage who rejected the College of Winterhold, retreating to the cavern beneath the meadery to live. The isolation he chose for himself slowly drove him mad and it seemed his growing delusion made the skeevers around the cave no longer hostile toward him. The vermin were actually very intelligent and Hamelyn taught them to play children's games like hide-and-seek with him. Hamelyn eventually lost all control of his sanity and claimed himself King of the Rats.

Ralof only half heard Laryn recant what she had read, content with just hearing her melodious voice again after enduring the silent ride to Whiterun. He didn't even notice the girl bring their dinner but when he found it in front of him, he ate mechanically as Laryn talked, seemingly making up for lost time earlier. He just listened to her voice, nodding occasionally, and thinking about how amazing it would be to hear that beautiful voice saying…_other_ things, when something she said broke his train of thought. "Wait, what?"

Laryn looked down at her plate and frowned. "I have enough gold to buy that house in Riften and I thought maybe you could stay there with me, but if you don't want to-"

"No, no. I'd love to," Ralof said quickly. "Really, I would. I like being around you." She didn't raise her eyes to meet his; instead she poked a piece of carrot around her plate with her fork. Ralof tried to think of something to say, hoping he hadn't blown his chance. "I-"

"There are some things I should tell you about if you want to," Laryn interrupted. She continued to watch the carrot move around on her plate, and took a deep breath. "Some things about my past, I cannot reveal to you. I need you to know that this is not because I _want_ to keep things from you, but because it is best for you."

"What do you mean?" Ralof asked worriedly.

"When I was younger, each of my family members died accidentally, all inside of a week. My brother had just joined the city guard and fell off the top of the wall while on patrol from a gust of wind, breaking his neck. My mother was mauled by a bear while weeding the garden. Remember how I told you how docile our workhorse was? She kicked my father while he was shoeing her and killed him. Yet…no one saw my brother fall, the bear's claw wounds were too perfectly straight, and Bela somehow kicked my father across the back of his head, crushing his skull."

Laryn stabbed her fork forcefully into the carrot and continued. "When I found my father in the barn, I finally realized what was happening. We didn't have any extended family so I ran to the only person I knew. There was a Dunmer named Lothis Oreyn who would give me candies if I told him things I overheard people talking about at my father's stable. He was always kind to me and called me his little birdie, though I didn't know what that meant then. I think he knew what was going on because when I came to him, he didn't even ask what was wrong, just told me he'd take care of me."

"Lothis was the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild in Cyrodiil. He taught me everything I know. None of the other members liked me; saw me as a threat to them succeeding him as Guildmaster, but he always protected me from them. A few years later, he was killed on a job. That was when the guild started to fall apart. They fought between themselves, all wanting to lead and all those who Lothis protected me from descended on me like wolves. I was only sixteen and alone, still reeling from my family and only friend being taken from me." Laryn dropped her fork and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. "Blood and ashes, I don't like you seeing me cry."

"It's okay, Laryn," Ralof replied softly. "Having emotions doesn't make you any less strong than I know you are."

Laryn smiled sadly and stared down at her hands. "_They_ are why I don't like to show emotion. They exploited my grief, knew how vulnerable I was. The women were catty, called me names, inferred that I was bedding Lothis which in turn gave a few of the men ideas to…do so themselves." She heard a grinding noise and looked up to see Ralof clenching his jaw, his eyes flashing in anger. Laryn reached across the table to touch his hand, which was fisted tightly around his fork. "Please, let me finish. I…I let them, Ralof. I let them because I didn't want what happened to my family happening to me." His hand loosened from the fork as the anger in his eyes dwindled to empathy.

"Regardless of how they treated me, I needed them," she continued. "They were horrible people, but they were my shield. This went on for a few years until the guild fell apart, partially from all the infighting. We all went our separate ways and I took what jobs I could find…being able to silently infiltrate a building has other uses besides stealing." Laryn looked down at her plate again. "My last job ended badly. The person I was doing it for gave me away and had me arrested for it. One night in the prison, I was awoken by a man in a black robe. He dropped my gear at my feet, told me I was too valuable to rot in prison and disappeared. The guards were all asleep at their posts and I escaped. That's how I ended up here."

"I guess I'm telling you all this because I need you to know why I'm not open about my feelings and that being near me is dangerous. You can't know everything about my past or who I am. If who killed my family finds me-"

"Then they will have to deal with a very angry Nord," Ralof said. "Look at me, Laryn." She lifted her tear filled eyes to his. "I'm truly sorry about the things that you have endured in your life. You deserved none of it. I won't push you to tell me anything that you think you shouldn't. Please don't think that I judge you for anything you've done. You are a wonderful person and while I hate what drove you to Skyrim, I'm glad you're here now."

Laryn smiled at him, relieved. "I'm glad I'm here too. I was so scared that you-"

"Excuse me, but are you Ralof?" A man appeared next to the table, holding a sealed parchment in one hand. Ralof replied that he was. "You are a hard man to find," the courier said and held out the parchment. "No time to chat, other messages to deliver. Have a nice day."

Ralof opened the letter as the courier turned and left. His face fell as he read the short message and he swore under his breath as he stood, throwing the parchment to the table. He left the common room and stomped up the stairs, leaving a very confused Laryn behind. She picked up the letter and read:

"_Ralof-_

_You are needed elsewhere. Report immediately to Windhelm. I hope your little friend hasn't turned you from the cause._

_U."_

Laryn walked over to the fireplace and tossed the paper in, watching the edges curl before it fully ignited in the flames. She didn't like Ulfric, but didn't want any evidence lying about to implicate Ralof. She bought some food and supplies from the barkeep for Ralof to take with him and headed to his room.

Upstairs, Ralof angrily crammed his things into his pack. _She finally opens up to me and wouldn't you know, bloody flaming honor gets in the way. I bet he doesn't even need me, just doesn't want me with her._ He buckled his sword around his waist, flung his pack over his shoulder and turned to leave but then thought better of it. _Ulfric can bloody well wait until morning. _He tossed his pack onto the bed, swallowing his anger. _Laryn needs me more than he does right now._ He opened the door and jumped when he found Laryn standing there.

"I burned your message after I read it," she said quietly, holding out a linen wrapped bundle. "I hope this is enough for you and your nameless horse to last until Windhelm, I wasn't sure how far it is." He tried to protest, saying he would stay at least until morning, but Laryn shook her head and shoved the package into his hands.

"Are you sure, Laryn? I don't want you to think that everything you just told me means nothing by running off the second Ulfric crooks a finger." She smiled at him and he turned, putting the food into his pack before slinging it back over his shoulder.

"I understand, Ralof. Please don't set aside your ideals for me."

As Ralof looked down at her sadly, he couldn't help but think how incredible she was and briefly was angered again at how she had been treated before he met her. He gathered her into a warm embrace, cradling her head to his chest and resting his cheek atop her head. "Thank you, Laryn." Her arms tightened around his waist and he smiled into her vivid hair. He held her for a few moments, then reluctantly let her go, the citrusy smell of her soap clinging to him.

Laryn smiled prettily up at him and Ralof couldn't help himself. He took her face between his hands and leaned down, kissing her gently. He felt her lips curve into a smile beneath his and he ended the kiss, resting his forehead on hers. He sighed and opened his eyes to find her beautiful leaf-green ones watching him intently. "Please be careful," she whispered.

Ralof caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I will return to you, I promise." He embraced her once more, then regretfully turned and left the room.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Sooooo sorry that it has been so long since an update! Life gets in the way. Work, video games…haha. I PROMISE that I will update more often from now on. Part of the problem is that I'm not used to writing anything remotely romantic, so now that I have….what is this I don't even**_

_**Big thanks to alyssacousland, both for the review and for proofing for me! You're awesome! Also, thanks to Azure Fields for the review(also, I love your profile pic. I heart Liara.) Maybe if you guys want me to update more frequently, you could all review more. ;) **_

Chapter 8: Scoundrel's Folly

Laryn awoke late the next morning in the same clothes as the night before, sprawled across the bed atop the blankets and with a massive headache. After Ralof had left for Windhelm, she had returned to the common room and drained ale after ale. She vaguely remembered a fistfight with another woman, which she had miraculously won and gained one hundred gold from, but not much after that. She lifted her hand and healed her throbbing head, set about gathering her things, paid her tab and left the inn.

Stepping out into the bright morning sunlight, Laryn got a better look at the city of Whiterun than she had the day before. The tiered city sat on a large hill with Dragonsreach, the city's keep, dominating the peak and referred to as the Cloud District. Below the long stairway leading to the keep was the Wind District, consisting mainly of the homes of Whiterun's residents and Jorvasskr, the great meadhall where the warriors of The Companions lived. The lowest district was the Plains District, where Whiterun's businesses and merchants plied their wares.

Laryn walked down the gentle slope of the Plains District, bypassing most of the business and stalls to find The Drunken Huntsman, which sat nearly at the bottom of the hill by city gates. Entering the shop, she found a blond Bosmer proprietor, who greeted her warmly.

"Ah, Kinsman! How my heart soars to look upon a sister Bosmer! I am Elrindir. Please, how can I serve your hunting needs?" he asked as they clasped hands.

"I'd like to see what you have, brother," Laryn replied. After browsing his selection, she traded him her steel arrows for a large quiver of beautifully crafted green glass ones. They were a bit on the expensive side and though they were pretty to look at, Laryn knew they would inflict more damage than her ordinary steel ones. They chatted amicably for a few minutes after her purchase, and Laryn brought up the strange name of the store.

"Ah yes," Elrindir chuckled. "It's a fine story. You see, my brother and I had drunk far too much mead one evening and decided to go hunting. Anoriath mistook me for a deer and shot me square in the rump with an arrow. Of course it hurt but it was so amusing that we decided to name our store 'The Drunken Huntsman'."

"I think it is a great name," Laryn laughed. "I have a long way to go before nightfall and must leave, but what can you tell me of Windhelm?"

Elrindir shook his head, the smile leaving his face. "It is one of the worst places to live in Skyrim for any of us Mer, sister. It is close to the border of Morrowind and after the eruption of the Red Mountain there years ago, many Dunmer fled to Windhelm. It was not so bad at first but the civil war has made the Nords there wary and distrustful. Jarl Ulfric segregated the elves and Argonians from the Nords. They live in squalor and are treated very badly, blamed for any and every problem. No, I would not recommend going there at all."

Laryn shook his hand again, thanking him for his time, and left the city for the stables. She debated following Ralof to Windhelm but decided against it, taking the road back to Riften. A short time later, the fox appeared beside her horse looking back the way she had come, searching for the other form it knew should be accompanying her.

ooooo

Laryn spent the night in her horse's saddle to make the trip as quickly as possible, and arrived in Riften a few hours before dawn. She made her way to the Bee and Barb, hoping that Maven would still be about despite the hour. As she entered the inn, Keerava greeted her with a pointy-toothed smile.

"I am most glad to see you again!" Keerava said. "The room you had before is available if you would like it."

"I'm not sure if I will be staying long," Laryn replied. "Do you know if Maven is about?"

"I believe she is, Mistress. She seemed more…agitated than normal."

"Lucky me," Laryn grumbled. "Thank you. By the way, didn't I ask you to call me Laryn?"

Keerava nodded and smiled sheepishly. "You have been most kind to me. I wish to show you respect."

"If you insist on calling me something, call me 'friend'." Laryn smiled at the Argonian then turned and marched up the stairs. She found Maven sitting in her usual place, eyes closed, apparently asleep. Laryn pulled the papers she had found at Honningbrew out of one of her many pockets and said, "It's done."

Maven jerked awake with an angry expression on her face that only softened slightly when she recognized who had disturbed her. "It took you long enough," she snapped as she snatched the papers out of Laryn's hand. She looked over the documents and grumbled, "There are no names I recognize, just some symbol. How is that supposed to help me?"

Laryn cleared her throat, getting Maven's attention along with a glare. "It's the same symbol that was on the bill of sale from Goldenglow Estate."

Maven narrowed her eyes at Laryn. "Well, aren't you a bright one? Take this to Brynjolf and see if he knows what it means," she said and shoved the papers back into Laryn's hand. "I suppose you want payment of some kind." She sighed and removed the dagger from her belt. "Here. It's expensive enough to cover you. Notify me if you find out who the symbol refers to. I have…contacts to take care of such problems."

Laryn took the dagger and rolled her eyes as she walked away, descending the steps two at a time. _I don't want a "gift" from that hagraven. Expensive? It's not even close to as nice as what Ralof made me._ A pang of loneliness hit her at the thought. She shook her head as she crossed the common room. _Ugh. Don't be such a sap, Laryn. He has more important things to do than follow you around. _She gave the dagger to Keerava under the pretense that it was future payment for lodging but truthfully, she just wanted to be nice to the woman. Laryn knew that if she tried to give the dagger as a gift, Keerava would not accept it, so she let the lie roll off her tongue and headed to the Ragged Flagon.

Upon entering the Ragged Flagon, Laryn spied Delvin sitting at a table enjoying his breakfast and joined him after getting a plate of her own. She told him about the fun her last mission had entailed as they ate and after they finished, sold him the decanter she had found. She returned her plate to the barkeep and entered the cistern to find Brynjolf. She found him leaning against one wall of the practice room with his arms crossed over his broad chest, watching another member fire arrow after arrow into the center of a target. As she approached, he motioned the archer out of the room to give them some privacy.

"Well Laryn, I see you're in one piece. What did you find out?" he asked, and took the parchment that Laryn silently proffered. He read it quickly and mused to himself, "This is the same symbol as before." Turning to her, he asked, "Do you realize what this means? Someone knows how important Maven is for the Guild and is trying to put a wedge between us. Come, lass. We had best find Mercer."

Laryn followed Brynjolf out of the practice room, back into the cistern and over to Mercer, who was bent over his desk examining a map. Brynjolf handed him the paper and Laryn stood by and listened as the two men discussed an Argonian mentioned as brokering the deals. Gulum-Ei was a dock worker for the East Empire Company and up until recently, corroborated with the Thieves' Guild by selling them things he stole from the Company warehouse. They gave Laryn the task of traveling to the city of Solitude and speaking with him, though Brynjolf told her that getting him to talk would be difficult. She accepted her task and bid them goodbye, leaving the cistern and the Ragged Flagon to prepare for her journey.

By the time Laryn was done buying food and supplies, the sun had risen though it was hidden by dark clouds that spoke of rain in the near future. She entered the Keep and spoke to the Jarl's steward regarding the house for sale in town. After some convincing, the steward allowed her to buy the house and helped Laryn outfit her new home with furniture, an enchanting table and other odds and ends. The steward eyed Laryn strangely when she asked about having a small section of the back door removed and a moveable wooden flap installed over the opening, but agreed. The steward told Laryn that her new home would be ready in a few days and handed her the key. Laryn hadn't had a real home for years, let alone_ owned_ a home before. She left Riften for Solitude with a smile on her face.

ooooo

Ralof climbed the steps of the Palace of the Kings upon reaching Windhelm. He had ridden nonstop to the city and felt bad for not giving his horse a rest. He had known that if he had stopped, when he mounted his horse again, he would have ridden away from Windhelm rather than towards it. He was honor-bound to aid Ulfric and he would, though reluctantly. He knew there was a Stormcloak camp near Riften, but he didn't hold out hope that Ulfric would send him there. _So long as he sends me away from this place. I can feel the mistrust in the air like a heavy fog._

Ralof entered the Palace and immediately heard Ulfric arguing with his first in command, Galmar Stone-Fist. He followed the sound of their voices and found them in the makeshift war room, just off from the huge throne room and went to one knee before them.

"Rise, Ralof. I am glad to see you heeded my call," Ulfric said and clasped hands with Ralof after he stood.

"I left immediately and rode through the night, Jarl."

"As you should when your country needs you. We have been getting reports from a few of the camps that the Imperials are intercepting our supplies. I need you to investigate and fix the problem." Ulfric searched Ralof's downcast eyes. "You left your…_friend _behind, right?" Ralof met his eyes and nodded, and Ulfric saw the glint of bitterness he was waiting for. He dug into the coin purse at his hip and pressed some gold into Ralof's hand. "Go stay at the inn for the night and find yourself a good Nord woman to warm your bed," he said, clapping Ralof on the shoulder companionably. "Put that other one out of your head. She is just a distraction that you don't need when I need you at your best. It's all coming to a head soon." He turned back toward the map. "Set out at first light for Haafingar Camp, southwest of Solitude. Do what needs done and return to me." Having given his orders, Ulfric resumed his conversation with Galmar, ignoring Ralof's presence.

Ralof unclenched his fists as he angrily glared at the back of the Jarl's head. Turning on his heel, he left the palace intent on drinking the inn dry of its ale.

ooooo

The two day journey to Solitude had been uneventful for Laryn despite being rained on the entire trip. She felt bad for her furry companion, who spent the time trotting dutifully next to her horse on the road. He had slept next to her in the tent in a wet, bedraggled ball. Laryn wondered why he had followed her for so long through less than ideal conditions, but was grateful for the company, however silent he was.

The city spread out before her was the crown jewel of Skyrim. Where most of the other cities and settlements of the country were wood and thatch with stone foundations, the homes of Solitude's residents were like small castles; all stone blocks and high arches. Upon entering the gates, Laryn was greeted with the sight of a public execution taking place. Speaking quietly with one of the many onlookers, she learned that the man in chains was guilty of letting Jarl Ulfric escape after killing the high king and in doing so; set the wheels of the civil war into motion.

Laryn turned away from the spectacle, having so recently escaped a similar fate, to find the inn where she was to meet with Gulum-Ei. She found 'The Winking Skeever' just a few paces away from where she stood. As she entered, she discreetly looked around at the patrons and found there to be only one Argonian in the establishment, sitting alone at a table in a small alcove near the door. Laryn chose a table across the room but in a direct line of sight and ordered a tankard of ale, which was left untouched before her as she studied the reptilian figure.

Gulum-Ei didn't seem to notice her watching him, more absorbed in his meal than anything. He seemed at ease with himself and his surroundings, which was the best time to try to take him off guard. Laryn dropped another coin as a tip onto the table, rose, and approached him.

ooooo

_I expected Mercer himself, and he sent a half-wit elf instead. He's not nearly as bright as Karliah seems to think._ Gulum-Ei took his time strolling out of the gates of Solitude and down the southernmost hill, past the farm that doubled as a stable for the city's visitors. As he meandered along the edge of the small bay outside of the city, he paused and breathed in the cold, salty air to relax after the tense meeting he had escaped from. _If she had been willing to do what I asked of her instead of refusing…a box of wine for information that I'm not comfortable holding? An easy trade. I know what she wants and I'd be willing to give it. Better than the point of one of Karliah's arrows centered on my spine so I help her play her little game with the Guild._

He entered the East Empire Company warehouse and walked along the tiny indoor harbor, amongst rows upon rows of unclaimed goods. These boxes brought untold wealth if handled correctly, and Gulum-Ei had quite a bit of gold tucked away thanks to them. Meandering towards the back of the complex, he nodded to the guards that dotted the pathway towards the back.

_No Bosmer has bright green eyes like those. She must be a half breed. _Gulum-Ei took the last turn at the back of the warehouse, still thinking of the meeting that had taken place at the inn a mere hour before. As he ducked down into a passageway half hidden in the water, he looked up as he heard a slight noise, a pebble kicked aside by a guard or a box of goods moving with the shift of weight as they acclimated to the humid air of the docks. _That elf was an idiot. She'd never have gotten this far._

ooooo

Gulum-Ei swallowed thickly against the ebony blade against his throat. One second, he was digging through a chest of new goods; the next…whoever had grabbed him was smart enough to have a good handle on one of the horns that crowned his head and had wrenched it back to leave the widely spaced scales that ringed his neck exposed. A melodic voice whispered sweetly into his ear.

"Scream if you must, but know that your paid bandits are no longer breathing."

His pulse quickened as he felt a droplet of blood trickle from under the blade held fast under his jaw to make its way jaggedly down the scales of his throat and mar the neck of his tunic. _Oh Gods above, faith in the Nine, don't let her take me. _"I never thought that you would make it this far." He cringed as his head was twisted farther back.

"Yet here I am. No more stalling. I don't know your exact anatomy, but this dagger is pretty flaming close to an artery," the voice intoned, pressing the blade deeper.

"Please, please…I will tell you what you must know."

"Of course you will," the voice said. "You are a coward, Gulum-Ei. So much so that you can't even get a crate of wine for a buyer. I refused because I'm not here to do menial tasks for you to get the answers I seek." The knife at his throat disappeared, and after a few moments of catching his hitched breath and rubbing his neck, he turned to face the voice.

The tiny Bosmer stared up at him, dagger outreached, ready to gut him. The dark brown Thieves Guild armor melded to her small lithe body, and served to set off her fiery red hair, set in a plait and hanging over her left shoulder. Her tilted, unnaturally green eyes set on him over slightly chubby cheeks and only vaguely pointed chin, both eager and angry.

"Did you know that you almost look human?" Gulum-Ei stuttered as he shifted his gaze behind her to make sure she told true of his guards.

Laryn saw where his eyes were aimed and smirked. "I swam through the canal and picked off your guards. I can hold an arrow on you while you check if you doubt me." Gulum-Ei shook his head ruefully. "Fine, then. Answers."

Gulum-Ei stared at the ground, shifting his feet. "Karliah. It's Karliah." He looked up just in time to catch the confused look on Laryn's face turn to anger as she adjusted the hilt of her dagger in her hand. "W-wait! You mean…you don't know who she is?"

Laryn raised an eyebrow and slowly lowered her weapon. "Should I?"

Gulum-Ei laughed nervously. "You must not have been in the Guild long. Karliah killed the last Guildmaster, Gallus, and it seems she's coming after Mercer. Angering Maven Black-Briar was the easiest and most effective way to get his attention. The only other thing I know, and I don't even know what it means-I swear I don't!-is that when I asked where she'd be if something happened that she needed to know, she said 'where the end began'."

Laryn crossed her arms over her chest and tapped the flat of her blade against her chin as she thought. "I could kill you, you know." Gulum-Ei started to protest, but she waved him to be quiet and sheathed her dagger at the small of her back. "I believe you. You're more likely to wet yourself than lie right now. But…if I find out that you _did_ lie to me, I'll be back and I won't give you the chance to talk."

"I believe you as well," Gulum-Ei said, wringing his clawed hands. "As a gesture of good faith, if you're ever in Solitude with items that the shops won't buy, I will take them off of your hands."

Laryn nodded and set about going through the stacked boxes and chests, taking a few things of worth. "These are payment for making me swim here," she grumped, pointing the end of a soul gem at him. "I should make you oil this bloody leather."

Gulum-Ei eyed her warily. "You know, if I didn't think you might still kill me, I might like you."

"If I don't have to kill you the next time I see you, the first drink is on me." She finished shoving a large golden statue into her knapsack and headed toward the exit.

"Be careful going out that way, there's horkers. They're meaner than they look," he called after her. He sank wearily into a rickety chair and drew a handkerchief out of his pocket. With a shaking hand, he dabbed the slowly drying blood from his throat. _If they were smart, they'd give Mercer the boot and make that one Guildmaster. _He smiled slightly. _I almost wish I could be there when she meets Karliah._


End file.
